


pactum cum lupis

by ladyoneill



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Talia Hale, Always Female Stiles Stilinski, F/M, Forced Bonding, Forced Relationship, Good Peter Hale, Pack Dynamics, Polyamory, Post Hale Fire, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Werewolf Biology, Werewolf Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-09 01:57:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3231965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyoneill/pseuds/ladyoneill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where the supernatural is known and most of it is very dangerous, human enclaves made mutually advantageous pacts with stable and more benevolent werewolf packs. The humans received protection in exchange for one girl every twenty years to bear werewolf babies as fewer and fewer wolves are able to do so. In Beacon Hills, Stiles Stilinski is sixteen and the twenty year wait for the Hale Pack is over. Devastated by a fire, they need born wolves, and Talia Hale is determined her son, Derek, will produce the next Alpha after her daughter, Laura. Stiles is perfect for him. Except, Derek is broken and doesn't want a mate, and pretty much ignores her. Meanwhile, Talia's brother, Peter, is all too willing to keep the young human girl company, as they are both intelligent and strong-willed and get along way too easily.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pactum cum lupis

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags. I used the rape/noncon one but while the sex between Derek and Stiles is rough and empty at the beginning only once does it stray into noncon. Neither wants the other at first. It does get better between them. Also Stiles is basically a broodmare for the werewolves but there's no tag for that.
> 
> In this AU while the Hale fire still happened, Peter wasn't burned and Talia survived to remain Alpha. Derek did kill someone, so his eyes are blue, but Peter's are gold. I made Peter around 32 and he's never had a mate. In this AU mates are not a soul-mate, one and only thing.
> 
> This was written for the Polyamory Big Bang on Livejournal. My artist, reena_jenkins, not only produced wonderful art ([ click here for the art post](http://reena-jenkins.livejournal.com/167973.html)) but inspired me to write several scenes to expand on the growing attraction between Stiles and Peter. The chocolate cake scene is wholly her idea. She also suggested a young Ellen Page as Girl Stiles. Mucho love to her for all her help and the lovely art!

Stiles Stilinski was eight and her mother was dying. Old beyond her years, she understood that. Death was a reality. What came after was a mystery that she would explore herself some day, but for now she sat at her mother's side, holding her hand and listening to her ramble about her visions of the afterlife. Not a Heaven with an old, white bearded man in the sky, but peace and beauty and fields of flowers and wolves.

As the dementia worsened, wolves began to appear more and more in her mother's stories. At first they were just randomly mentioned but more recently the wolves had names like William and Audra. Never names like Fluffy or Midnight. Some of the names were familiar, but they were also common, and if her mom wanted to give the wolves in her stories human names, that was fine with Stiles.

Whatever her mom wanted was fine with Stiles.

Even when she'd shaved both their heads.

Stiles knew that there were wolves in the forest. Everyone heard them howling sometimes. As far as she knew they never came into town, so she wasn't scared of them. 

They were just animals.

But on the day her mother died, Claudia Stilinski gave her wolves a surname and the story turned dark.

And, for the first time, Stiles played a role.

She didn't understand what her mom was rambling about. Wolves who were human sometimes. Protection. A pact. Her dad and the mayor and other people Stiles knew were important in the county.

Little girls like her.

Dying gave her mother a strength she'd lost weeks before and the grip on Stiles' hand was painful, but she didn't try to pull away. Somehow she knew what Claudia was telling her wasn't a story. It was the truth. It was her future.

And it didn't have to be horrible.

Her last words to her daughter stayed with Stiles for the rest of her life.

"When you are chosen, accept with mind and heart open, my little Godzislawa. It doesn't have to be the end, only the beginning of something new."

Two weeks after her mother's death, through eavesdropping on her father's drunken rambles, phone calls, and her own research, Stiles knew what her mother had been talking about.

Werewolves were real.

There was a compact between the humans and the wolves.

She might be the price the humans paid to keep it.

Every twenty years the Pact was renewed. Once in a generation. For over a hundred years, Beacon County, California had been under the protection of the Hale Pack. They weren't the only place to make such a pact, but they were one of the earliest.

When they entered middle school, the children of Beacon County learned that werewolves were not only real, but were the tip of the supernatural iceberg, but, because of the Pact life for human was normal, if rather insular. If kids younger than ten wondered why their parents and relatives were almost all from Beacon County and rarely left, it wasn't a big deal. They were kids.

Unlike her friends, Stiles knew the truth about the Pact and about the hot zones between communities where the dangerous supernaturals roamed and killed or enslaved humans. She knew that whenever someone did travel from Beacon County--and occasionally young adults did go away to college or to start a life somewhere else (just as newcomers sometimes moved in)--a Hale wolf accompanied them.

Werewolves might be just the tip of that iceberg but they were also the top. Not only were individual packs strong, but there was a network around the world. If a vampire, ghoul or demon killed or stole a human under a pack's protection, every pack would hunt them down.

These were truths that were kept from the children, although there was always gossip and supposition. Stiles, who knew the truth, kept silent on the matter. At age eight, her innocence had been wiped away, but the rest of the kids her age didn't need to grow up so fast.

All they needed to know was that they were safe.

Stiles grew up knowing she was safe, but also that she could be the reason that safety continued.

When she was nearly thirteen her father sat her down and, with a lot of difficulty and a few too many shots of whisky, explained the details of the Pact to her. Stiles never told him that she'd known for five years.

"Huh?"

Rolling her eyes at the confusion on her best friend's face, Stiles started again, "The Pact, Scott, the Pact with the Hale wolves. You know about it." It wasn't a question because everyone over the age of ten knew about it. It just wasn't something most people worried or even thought about.

"Yeah." The look turned dubious before he dropped his eyes back to the cross he was restringing.

"Have you ever wondered what we give them in return for their protection?"

"Um, no?"

Stiles grabbed the stick away from him, ignoring his outcry as she negligently tossed it onto the floor of his room. "No one does. Well, the everyday citizens don't."

Scott shot her a belligerent look, or an attempt at one. "There's a ceremony every twenty years, right?"

"Sort of. How'd you know about that?" Because it certainly wasn't a public ceremony.

"Remember when I was researching lacrosse scores for the last couple decades? I remember reading a headline about the renewal of the Pact. It didn't really say much in the article, just that it was every twenty years."

Actually impressed he remembered that much, Stiles nodded. "Yeah, well this is the twentieth year."

"Oh. So?"

"Okay, you can't tell anyone." This was probably a mistake, but Stiles couldn't keep this massive secret any longer, and, if it was her--and with her luck and her age, it would be--he was going to find out anyway. "Pinky swear."

Scott was the one to roll his eyes this time, but he complied, locking his little finger with hers.

"So, about a hundred and thirty years ago the numbers of born werewolves began to decline dramatically. Before then, children born to two born werewolves had about a seventy to eighty percent chance of being a wolf. Then, all of sudden, and probably due to environmental changes, the numbers dropped to about ten percent which has always been, at least since statistics have been kept, the chance for a wolf to be born to bitten werewolves or a combo of born and bitten as well as the rare born female wolf and human male combo. About the same time they also discovered something else, there was a huge leap in percentile chances of a werewolf being born to a human woman and a born male werewolf. Like nearly one hundred percent."

Scott started to frown. "Wait, humans and werewolves...?" He blushed around his frown. "I didn't think that ever happened. Don't they usually stick to their own kind?"

"Usually, but not always, and not before the big reveal when, by necessity, they mingled with and occasionally married humans, though, in most cases, the humans who married werewolves usually took the Bite. Anyway, about the same time as their fertility plummeted, the supernatural came out of the closet and humans started to freak out and werewolves and others that could pass for humans and that had been intermingling and intermarrying with them retreated to their own communities." Or were driven out. "Anyway, the bad creatures went wild and started killing and enslaving humans and that's where the pacts come in."

"I did pay attention in history class, Stiles."

"Yeah, yeah. But they never told us the terms. Just that the werewolf packs would protect human communities."

"Oh, yeah. I never thought about...Do we have to pay them or something?"

The Hale land sat on a gold mine--literally--but Stiles refrained from snarking and sighed. "Sort of. Human women, Scott. We can give them werewolf kids."

Scott stared at her then turned bright red. 

"Ding, ding, ding."

"Ass."

"Sorry." Sometimes she couldn't help herself. "Anyway, every twenty years the town and county leaders give up one of their daughters to the Hale Pack to give them kids. Most packs around the world have similar pacts with their communities, though the terms vary..."

"Stiles...Is the Sheriff a town or county leader?" Scott interrupted dully, reaching out and grabbing her hand.

She squeezed back and the look on his face made her want to cry.

"No. No way. We'll...I dunno, get married or something."

That was the Scottie she'd loved since he'd named her Stiles on the first day of kindergarten because no one, including the teacher, could pronounce her name and it made her cry. Leaning forward she hugged him tightly. "If we spent twenty four seven with each other, we'd kill each other in a week, dude." She could feel him grinning against her cheek.

"Yeah, probably, plus the one time we kissed it was like kissing grandma."

"Ew." Laughing, she pulled back and lightly smacked him on the back of the head, then immediately sobered at the expression on his face. Such earnest concern.

"What are you going to do? I mean, you're only sixteen. It's...y'know...sex," he whispered, "isn't even legal."

"Doesn't matter. Consent laws didn't exist when the Pact was drafted anyway. It's any human female between thirteen and twenty-five."

He gaped and she nodded, sourly continuing, "Yeah, I know. Something about the more childbearing years the better."

"Fuck."

"Concise but to the point."

"Stiles, what are you going to do? I mean, are you the only one? Are there others to choose from? Maybe your dad can quit his job."

"Yeah, the last one isn't feasible. That's been tried. Sixty years ago, during some time of moral outrage, several of the city council members and the mayor, all with eligible daughters, didn't run for re-election the year before so their kids weren't eligible in the twentieth year, leaving only a couple twenty-four year old daughters of county commissioners for the wolves to choose from. Those men all ran again three years later and got re-elected and the wolves were pretty pissed off. They amended the Pact to add a clause forbidding this unless for death or serious illness, and along with the girl they'd chosen three years before, they took two others. It was a big, big deal."

"Geez."

"Nowadays no one wants to screw around with it. We need the protection. One woman every twenty years really isn't much to pay for it."

"Except when you're the girl." Frowning, Scott squeezed her hand again and Stiles took a deep breath, trying to slow her racing heart.

She was scared, but she was trying not to show it to anyone, especially her dad, who kept giving her pained looks every time he saw her.

"So, it's next week and there are four of us. There would have been six but one got married last year--that's allowed as long as it's obviously not a sham, so, yeah, we two getting married is out, too--and another isn't fertile. They test that," she added sourly, dropping her eyes to her lap as she remembered the embarrassment of the egg harvesting and other invasive tests that had happened a couple weeks before. "There's me, and the DA's youngest daughter is twenty-four, then a city council woman's daughter is twenty-one." A sour feeling was forming in the pit of her stomach, the same one that came on every time she thought of the last option.

"Danny's mom's the mayor. His sister is thirteen."

Scott's eyes widened in shock.

"Yeah, no way in Hell I'm letting that happen."

"How...how will you stop it?"

She shrugged. "Throw myself at them probably."

"There are the two older girls."

"Yeah, but they have less fertile years than me. It's going to be me or Danny's sister and it can't be her. Even though she's three years younger which means at least one more baby than me, it's not healthy for a girl that young."

"It's not healthy for you either!" Scott protested.

She shrugged again. "I've only got a couple more years of growing. Have you seen Stephie? She doesn't even have boobs!"

Scott flushed and then flopped back on the bed, pulling Stiles down with him so she half sprawled across him. "When does it happen?"

"On Sunday, so in four days."

"Shit, this sucks!"

Yeah.

The morning of the day the Pact was renewed arrived overcast and chilly. All Stiles wanted to do was stay in bed, head buried beneath the warm covers, but she dragged herself out of her cocoon and mechanically showered and dressed. She ignored her usual sloppy pants, t-shirts and flannel shirts and put on her only dress. It was a pale blue and clung to her. Dismayed she tugged at it, but it refused to loosen up, and she realized she hadn't worn it for at least a year. In that time her body had developed boobs and hips and a slender waist.

Frustrated she glared at her reflection and yanked at the dress' bodice, trying to show less cleavage, but it was futile.

And, maybe for the best.

Despite her short hair and lack of make-up, she looked like a woman.

Sighing, she pulled on hose and stuffed her feet into navy flats--nothing was going to make her wear heels--before trudging down the stairs.

Her father was seated at the kitchen table, a cup of coffee growing cold in front of him as he stared at the newspaper. When Stiles entered, he looked up and did a double take, before standing and taking her in his arms. Stiles went eagerly, burying her face in his chest and drinking in his scent.

"You look so beautiful," John said gruffly as he stroked her back. "So like..."

Her mom. She looked like her mom, which was one of the reasons she hardly ever dressed like a girl.

Slowly he pulled back, his hands light on her shoulders, a fading smile on his strained face. "Do you want me to make you something to eat?"

Her stomach was doing flip flops; the last thing she wanted was food, so she shook her head and pulled away to take her pills.

"Okay, after we can stop at the diner."

"Dad," Stiles protested painfully as she watched his face harden.

"It's a twenty five percent chance."

While she wished he wasn't in denial, she could understand the comfort of it. She just couldn't.

"Let's just go," she said faintly, before grabbing her good winter coat from the hook inside the back door.

She wanted this over with.

The ceremony--why it was called that Stiles had no clue--was held at City Hall in a small conference room. Of the four candidates, she was the last to arrive, and one look at Stephie Mahealani's pale, tear-streaked face, strengthened her resolve. No way were the werewolves touching that kid. She pretty much ignored the other two young women who were more composed but quiet. They were both pretty but obviously older than her.

Everyone was nervous, and Stiles felt like she was going to vibrate out of her skin. Only her dad's reassuring hand on her shoulder kept her still and calm enough to keep from babbling.

Before she could decide if she should take a seat or remain standing, another door opened and a strikingly handsome older woman and a slightly younger man entered. While they looked human, Stiles had seen them around town a few times and knew the woman was the Hale Alpha. 

While the large pack of werewolves mostly kept to the forests surrounding Beacon Hills, they still had to come into town on occasion, for supplies and to do the duty the city was paying them for. As far as she knew, there were no kids in school with her named Hale, so Stiles had no clue just how many there were or what their ages might be.

The man was handsome, probably in his mid-thirties, with piercing blue eyes and a small goatee, and, as she wondered if he was the one, those eyes lingered on her. His calculating look made her flush and fidget her fingers into the skirt of her dress. Her thoughts skittered away, only to be dragged back to the present by the mayor butchering her name.

The male werewolf's lips twisted into a smirk as she muttered, "Stiles, everyone calls me Stiles."

The werewolves didn't introduce themselves, just walked down the line of women--sacrifices. When Talia Hale's eyes lingered on Stephie, the young girl started to cry again, and Stiles grabbed her hand, squeezing it gently.

That didn't go unnoticed, and the Alpha moved back in front of her. Behind her, hand still on her shoulder, her dad stiffened. Bravely she met the woman's dark eyes for a moment, before dropping them in respect.

And that was all it took.

A nod from the Alpha and the other three girls and their families rushed out of the room in relief. Knowing her dad was going to protest, Stiles reached up and covered his hand with hers, before taking a deep breath and turning to hug him.

"Stiles," he whispered painfully.

"It's fine," was her dulled response as she squeezed him tightly. "I'll see you soon." She hoped. She had no clue.

The Alpha spoke for the first time. "John, we'll take good care of her. She's a gift to us."

Her dad stiffened in anger and she shook her head against his chest. "Dad, don't." And slowly, reluctantly he relaxed enough to let her go.

Stiles wanted to fall into a little heap and sob, but she stiffened her spine and gave her dad one last look before turning to face the two werewolves.

Talia was smiling gently, obviously trying to be welcoming and comforting. The man, on the other hand, continued to regard her with interest.

"Who?" John asked gruffly, then nodded at the male werewolf. "Peter?" 

"No, my son, Derek."

Peter's face closed up and now all he looked was bored.

And, that was it. One last hug from her dad, a mention of sending her things to the Hale compound. and she was escorted out of the room and the building to a black Range Rover, hustled into the backseat before the cold wind could barely touch her. Wrapping her coat tighter around herself she stared out the window as the only home she'd ever known whirled by in a blur of streets and traffic and buildings.

No one said anything, not even when they left the town behind and entered the Preserve--thousands of acres of forested land owned by the Hales. Stiles had never gone farther than the small area that was kept for the public for hiking or picnics, but Peter drove them deeply into the forest, turning a few times onto smooth gravel lanes, until finally they emerged from the trees to face a huge house. It was two storeys tall, white with red brick trim, and a wrap-around porch, like something out of a southern plantation. It looked surprisingly modern for a pack of werewolves who'd been living in these woods for over a century and a half. There was even a couple satellite dishes on the roof.

As the car stopped on the circular drive, several people emerged from the house, all adults, though one girl looked about her age. They all looked curious, and Stiles felt her heart leap into her throat. There were a few young men and she couldn't help but wonder which one it was.

A heavy sigh from Talia jerked her attention to the Alpha who pinched the bridge of her nose, and Stiles frowned in confusion.

"Go find him, Peter," she said as she opened the door and stepped out, then reached back and opened the door for Stiles. Slowly she slid out and stuffed her hands in the pockets of her coat because they were fidgeting again.

Of the dozen or so people on the porch, only an older woman came down the stairs. Dressed neatly in navy slacks and what looked like a cream silk blouse under a red and navy striped cardigan, her dark hair peppered with silver and piled on top of her head, she appeared to be in her sixties, but Stiles knew werewolves aged slower than humans.

Talia's hand on her elbow jerked Stiles into motion and they approached the woman, who gave her a gentle smile, but there was something in her eyes, a shadow. 

"Mama, this is Stiles. Stiles, my mother, Daphne."

"Welcome to the family, Stiles," Daphne said warmly, reaching out and taking her wrist, coaxing her hand from her pocket. "I know all this is frightening, but we'll do our best to help you adjust." The shadow deepened.

And that's when Stiles knew.

This woman was human. A sacrifice just like her.

Together the Alpha and her human mother got Stiles past the other people and into the house. Before she knew it, her coat was gone and she was being seated on a leather sofa in what looked like a library. Talia firmly shut the door behind them, keeping out the curious, as Daphne, hand still gentle on Stiles' wrist took the seat next to her. Leaning against the large antique desk, the Alpha frowned.

"Where is he, mama?"

Sighing, Daphne patted Stiles' hand. "He disappeared before breakfast. Talia..."

Talia cut off her mother with a sharp gesture of one hand. "Mama, my decision is final."

The woman beside her stiffened, but nodded, turning her head slightly, and Stiles realized she was baring her throat. It was only when she did that, that Talia relaxed minutely.

"How old are you, Stiles? And that can't be your real name, right?"

"Um, sixteen," Stiles stammered, "And no one can pronounce my real name."

"It's charming." Daphne was obviously trying to make her relax, but Stiles was too nervous, wanting to get all this chatting over with, unable to help but wonder what was going on, and who her mate was and why he'd disappeared. "Who are your parents?"

"My dad's the Sheriff. My mom...she died when I was eight." Her heart thumped painfully in her chest. Her mom should have been here to prepare her for this.

"I'm so sorry, dear." There was another pat of the hand and sympathy in the older woman's eyes, but nothing was really calming Stiles. "John Stilinski, hm? A good man. I see where you got your nickname."

Before Daphne could say anything else, the door opened and Peter entered, physically dragging a younger man behind him. Stiles caught a glimpse of broad shoulders, dark hair and stubble, before Peter shoved him forward. He didn't stumble like Stiles would have done, only crossed his arms over his chest, pulling the grey Henley he wore, tighter, and turned to Talia, whose lips tightened into a frown.

"Derek," she said, her voice clipped and angry. "This is your mate, Stiles."

The man half-turned to her, eyes sullen and angry as they ran over her, then dismissed her, leaving her feeling confused and hurt.

Here she was making this huge sacrifice and he didn't want her?

"Derek," Talia snarled, and, for the first time, Stiles saw the animal in her and not just from the crimson eyes that flashed at her son. Several tense minutes passed before he ducked his head in submission, then turned in an instant and grabbed Stiles' arm, jerking her off the couch and out of the room.

"This is a mistake, Talia," she heard Peter protest, but they were half-way up a wide set of stairs before the Alpha could respond. 

Fear flooded her. The hand on her arm was hard and tight. The man pulling her behind him was angry.

And Stiles was scared, more scared than she'd ever been.

The room she was dragged into on the second floor was both masculine and messy, the large bed unmade, clothes scattered on the floor. As the door slammed behind them, he released her only to angrily tug his shirt over his head. Shocked at the appearance of perfect skin and muscles and a large tattoo in the middle of his back, Stiles sank against the door, wanting out, away, anywhere but here.

Derek glanced over his shoulder, bushy eyebrows drawn tight in annoyance, eyes flashing bright blue, then he flung the shirt into a pile of other clothes and toed off his shoes. "Get undressed," he barked.

Stiles could feel herself pale, her skin go cold and clammy, her heart pounding in her ears. 

This...this wasn't how it was supposed to be. He was angry and, oh God, his hands were undoing his belt and the snap on his jeans, and Stiles could only stare in shock at the perfect ass bared to her, before Derek was on her, dragging her dress down her shivering arms, sending it into a puddle of fabric at her feet. Cold eyes raked over her slender body, then uncaring hands picked her up and tossed her onto the bed where she bounced hard, all air driven from her lungs.

When Stiles was finally able to breathe again, she realized Derek was standing next to the bed, arms again crossed over his chest, naked.

So very naked.

And gorgeous.

Fear got the better of any embarrassment though, because his dick was hard, thick and long and uncut, belying his bitten out, "I don't want you."

And that made her angry. She'd given up her life, her body, her future, and this was what she got? "I don't want you either," she snapped back, making Derek snort, but not in amusement.

There was nothing funny about any of this.

He gestured to her. "Take those off."

Stiles didn't want to be naked with this angry man whose eyes were still a brilliant, unnatural blue, but, she didn't know how to handle him, and knew she couldn't stop him. She wouldn't be the reason the Pact broke. With trembling hands, she stripped off her hose, bra and panties--her shoes having fallen off in the toss onto the bed--trying not to blush or cover herself. Swallowing hard, she lay back, hands clenched at her sides, and tried not fall into panic. Derek's eyes raked over her again and she could see there was nothing about her that impressed him.

Her heart continued to pound in fear, but she was determined to get through this. If Derek wanted to be cold and nasty, she could be cold and nasty, too. Stilinskis were stubborn that way.

"Get on your hands and knees." As he barked at her, he rummaged in the night stand drawer, and as Stiles turned onto shaking limbs, she caught a glimpse of a jar of something, before pressing her face into the pillow and slipping to her elbows. The mattress depressed with Derek's weight and strong hands took her thighs, jerking them apart.

Her breath caught in her throat and tears stung her closed eyes. Desperately she wanted to ask him why he was being so cruel, why he was so mad, but she couldn't form words, could only gasp for air.

Which was driven from her lungs when two slick fingers pushed into her.

When a third was added, making her wince at the unfamiliar ache, her frantic, whirling mind came to the logical conclusion.

Lube.

He was making her slick and open because...because...

She was dry and tight and didn't want him and he didn't care to make her want him.

Too busy trembling and gasping and choking on her own saliva in shock, Stiles barely realized when the fingers were replaced with something much thicker. A burst of pain brought her back to herself and she felt Derek's broad hands on her hips, holding her still as she instinctively tried to squirm away.

Lightly furred thighs pressed against her own, trembling ones, forcing them to stay spread. His body smacked against her bottom, forcing a moan from her, and then he pulled back before doing it again.

He was inside her, big and hard, and he just kept thrusting, his hands jerking her back onto him as his hips pushed forward.

Fresh tears stung her eyes and she buried them in the pillow.

It hurt. It hurt and he obviously didn't care.

There were no kisses, no gentle touches, just his cock punching into her again and again until the burning, tearing pain became almost unbearable. Just as Stiles opened her mouth to yell at him to stop, Derek jerked out of her and something hot and wet spilled across her back. Before she could even process what had happened, he was off the bed and disappearing into the bathroom, door firmly closed behind him.

Stunned, Stiles stared after him, then slowly sank down onto the mattress and reached down with a shaking hand to pull the sheet over her cold, aching body. As she carefully turned onto one hip, facing away from the door where Derek would eventually emerge, she felt his semen ooze down her back and realized he hadn't come inside her.

That confused her more than anything else that had happened since he dragged her out of the library.

How was she supposed to get pregnant if he pulled out?

A few minutes passed before the door behind her opened, then the main bedroom door opened and shut, and she was alone.

Realizing her mate had just walked out on her made Stiles incredibly angry, angry enough to get out of the bed, ignore the pain between her legs and stomp into the bathroom. The steam on the mirror and wet shower told her Derek had bathed and that sounded incredibly good. Plus the stuff on her back was sticky and cold now and she wanted any reminder of him gone. Finding a dry towel and washcloth beneath the sink, she turned on the shower and once the water was hot, stepped inside.

Anger fueled her scrubbing of her body with unscented soap and she used his shampoo as well. She was only careful when washing between her legs, the washcloth coming away pink with blood, but she simply rinsed it away and got as clean as she could. Werewolves had super sensitive noses and while she knew that everyone in the house was aware of what had happened she did not want to reek of sex and her asshole of a mate.

Once clean, she closed her eyes and let the hot water flow over her, and slowly the anger slipped away.

She didn't realized she was crying until she turned off the water and heard the choking sobs coming from her throat. Wrapping the towel around herself, she sank down onto the toilet and let herself wallow for a few minutes.

Finally, the tears and crying ebbed away, leaving her tired and bitter, but she was a Stilinski and Stilinskis were proud as well as stubborn.

Stiles refused to let that ass see how he affected her. Folding up some toilet paper, she blew her nose and used the edge of the towel to dry her cheeks. A glance in the mirror showed her that her eyes were red, but there was nothing she could do about that.

Taking a deep breath, she rose to peer out a crack in the door to make sure she was still alone before drying off and tugging her clothes back on, minus the hose because she hated those implements of torture. Jamming her feet into her shoes, she ran fingers through her wet hair and took another deep breath before leaving the bedroom.

A cowering maiden she wasn't.

Not that she was a maiden any longer.

What she was, to her surprise, was hungry.

And, now that she was past being upset, she was mad.

As she started down the hall towards the stairs, a door opened and Peter fell into step beside her. For a moment, Stiles faltered, then she continued forward with him at her side. She wasn't sure who he was in relation to Talia and Derek, but there was something about him that drew her eyes and made her heart and stomach flutter. As they descended the stairs, his hand rested lightly on her back and she frowned in confusion.

Along with their heightened senses, Stiles knew that werewolves were tactile, but should he be touching her?

Still, since she had no clue where anything was in this mansion, she let him guide her, relieved when they entered a large, empty kitchen.

"Your stomach's growling," was his amused comment as he nudged her to a huge pine table.

"Skipped breakfast." Slowly she sat down, wincing as she did, then flushing as his eyes lingered on her before he moved to the restaurant sized refrigerator and opened one of the doors.

"I'd apologize for my nephew but I know that's not my place." Peter pulled sandwich makings out and joined her at the table to put together two humongous ham sandwiches. "I hope you're not one of those women who lives on half a lettuce leaf."

Unable to refrain from snorting, Stiles shook her head and reached for a bag of fritos to dump large piles on the two plates. "He's your nephew?"

Handing her a sandwich, Peter nodded. "I'm Talia's brother."

"So, Daphne's your mother?"

"Actually, no." Sitting down and taking a bite of his own sandwich, he shrugged nonchalantly. "Our father was never faithful. My mother was an Omega he dallied with and only took into the Pack when I turned out to be a wolf. She died when I was four. Daphne's always been good to me, though."

Surprised, Stiles swallowed her first bite of sandwich. "I thought the whole reason for the Pact was that werewolf women rarely gave birth to werewolf babies."

"The key word there is 'rarely'." 

...Oh, right. Of course, Derek, too, obviously.

As if he could see the questions forming in her mind, Peter said easily, "Talia managed to birth three wolves along with two humans. Almost unheard of, but my sister never let anything stop her, not other packs, not other supernatural creatures, not even hunters. A pesky little thing like biology certainly wasn't going to."

Shelving her question about hunters--a term she was unfamiliar with as she was pretty sure it didn't mean the kind that killed Bambi and Thumper--Stiles took another bite, washing it down with some of the cold water he'd set out before asking, "Is Derek the next Alpha?" She wasn't really sure how that worked. Obviously gender didn't have anything to do with it. Firstborn maybe?

"No, he's a born Beta. It's not always the oldest. Talia's older brother was never expected to follow in our father's footsteps, but in this case, it is her oldest werewolf child, Laura." Peter's eyes glittered into hers as a small, almost sad smile crossed his lips. "Most likely one of your children will follow her. She's had a mate for four years and only produced one offspring, a human."

Oh.

"Is that why Talia chose her son?" Dropping her eyes, she fiddled with a few fritos before stuffing one in her mouth.

"Of course."

"Were there other options?"

"Not for Talia."

Something in his voice made her look up, and their eyes met and held for a long moment, before Stiles sighed softly. "He's an asshole."

Peter's lip twitched but he didn't say anything and they finished their meal in a companionable silence. Once they were done and he had cleaned up the kitchen, he offered her his arm.

"How about I show you around your new home?"

Nodding, Stiles took his arm, felt the strength and gentleness there, and let him guide her out of the kitchen.

A couple of hours later she was back in Derek's room--her room, too, she supposed--unpacking the clothes and toiletries her father had sent over, grousing to herself that her mate hadn't bothered to make room for any of her things, and pondering all she'd learned.

The Pack House held only immediate family--Talia and two of her children, Daphne and Peter. Laura, her mate and child lived in one of the several other houses scattered throughout the compound, as did Talia's firstborn, Nick, a human male who had a mate and two children--the mate was a born wolf; the children were human. Talia's youngest daughter, Cora, also a werewolf and Stiles' age had the room next to Derek's.

Apparently the other child, a human girl, had died. When Peter hadn't elaborated, Stiles hadn't pushed.

She had asked about the sacrifice from twenty years before and the woman and her mate, one of Peter's cousins, were dead along with the cousin's two sisters, their mates, and a couple of their children. Their remaining kids were human, though the two of the five born to the human woman who were alive were werewolves. All of those kids lived with their grandmother in another house in the compound.

Stiles had wanted to ask about all the deaths, but Peter seemed reticent about talking about them. Maybe they died in defense of the town. If that was the case, she could understand why it was a touchy subject, but she wasn't looking forward to worrying about the safety of her children.

Of course, that first meant having them which meant that Derek had to actually impregnate her.

Asshole.

Shoving a pile of his socks from one drawer into another so she could replace them with her own, she couldn't help but wonder where the Hell he was. On their tour of the house, Peter had introduced her to Cora, a couple cousins, an uncle, two great aunts, and a couple others, most of them werewolves, either born or bitten, but there'd been no sign of Derek, or Talia for that matter, though the library door was closed and they hadn't ventured in there.

Peter had left her with the gentle comment that she could come to him with any questions or concerns, and she believed he meant it, but she didn't even know where to start.

So, Stiles took out some of her frustration on Derek's clothes, shoving them into tight drawers and to one side of the closet to make room for her own. Her few toiletries she found space for on the bathroom counter, before plugging in her laptop and her phone on the barren desk.

Finally, Stiles turned to the bed and made a face before tugging off the stained sheets and shoving them in the empty hamper, before replacing them with clean ones from the hall closet Peter had shown her. As the room began to grow oppressive and her thoughts began to scatter with worry setting in again, she texted both her dad and Scott that she was fine, before setting down the phone as she wasn't ready for their responses, and leaving the room again.

Only to bounce off Derek's broad chest.

They stared at each other, until the stares turned to glares, and Derek finally stepped aside so Stiles could leave, which she did without a backwards glance, despite her heart once again pounding painfully in her chest.

How on Earth was this going to work?

Returning to the main level with no real goal in mind, she was surprised when the library door opened as she started past it and Talia beckoned her inside. The Alpha looked tired and stressed.

Wasn't this supposed to be a happy occasion for the werewolves? They got a new baby maker, right?

Warily she followed Talia back into the warmly lit room and took a seat again on the couch. This time the older woman joined her, but kept a space between them. She was frowning and deep in thought, but Stiles just waited, more patient than normal, because she wasn't sure what was coming now.

"My brother has suggested that I owe you an explanation." Talia didn't look happy about that, but shrugged in resignation. "My son is..." She sighed and rubbed her forehead, a familiar gesture as it was one of Stiles' dad's favorites when she exasperated him. "Do you know about the fire six years ago?"

Fire?

Stiles shook her head.

"Hunters?"

Another shake of her head made Talia sigh heavily. "Sometimes I'm amazed that the city leaders tell their children that we exist at all." As she spoke, she seemed to look past Stiles, as if seeing something else. "Hunters are humans who go after the supernatural. Most leave established wolf packs alone as, for the most part, we are protecting humans, but there are those who feel we're as bad as demons and vampires and most other supernatural entities. Six years ago, a hunter female infiltrated our Pack by seducing Derek. He was young and vulnerable and I was busy with my youngest daughter, a human who...who had developed leukemia. My mate and I, my mother, my other children, we were all distracted. Derek was a moody teenager and we just let him be."

"It was mistake," she choked out. "Using our secrets against us, the hunter trapped us in this house, set it on fire. My mate, our youngest daughter, a dozen other family members died. Cora and I were badly burned, but it was only pure luck that my mother had made a last minute decision to spend the full moon night hunting down a few night blooming herbs and had dragged Laura and Derek with her. Being human she was able to break the spells used to trap us and save the few of us remaining alive. Only this room was spared with Peter inside it because of protections placed on the invaluable books. He couldn't get out, though, as those protections trapped him as well. He could only listen to our screams," she added faintly.

Compassion flooding her, Stiles reached out and laid a hand on the back of one of Talia's bring the Alpha back to herself with a jerk. Turning her hand over, she took Stiles' and gently squeezed.

"I'm so sorry."

Nodding in acknowledgment, Talia continued softly. "Obviously we rebuilt, but the Pack was devastated. In the hopes of preventing anything like this again, I insisted that most of the family move into other homes we built as we rebuilt the mansion, and we no longer celebrate the full moons inside. In fact, we never gather in one interior place as a full pack." Talia gave her a sad smile. "Your father was very helpful in the weeks after the fire. He visited me several times in the hospital, helped Peter and mama with the funeral arrangements, and brought the bitch who did this to justice. He's a very good man."

"And, yet..." Stiles blurted, then turned bright red, silently cursing her unruly tongue.

"And, yet, I chose you for Derek because I hoped you had your father's strength, will and character."

Stiles couldn't, wouldn't blame her father.

"Derek blames himself for the fire, for all the deaths, but he was a child, manipulated by an older woman, and I'm at fault as well for never warning my children about hunters." She fell silent, then patted Stiles' hand before pulling back and rising to her feet. "I hope you can help him, Stiles. I want him to be happy."

Trying to ignore the bitterness filling her--because what did her own happiness matter, right?--Stiles stood as well, wrapping her fingers in the skirt of her dress, before leaving the room.

Somehow she wasn't surprised to find Peter waiting for her. With a nod of his head, he led her to the warmest room in the house--a small solarium brimming with plants and scattered wicker furniture with comfortable cushions. As she sank into one chair, he sat across from her, crossing one leg over the other and tapping his chin with a long finger.

"So, she actually listened to me and told you."

"Are you like her advisor or something?"

His lips twitched. "Something like that. She does trust me. It's just, she's stubborn and a born Alpha. No one was at all surprised that the traits showed up when she was still an infant."

"Do you blame Derek?"

Peter seemed surprised at that question, but he shook his head. "None of us do, but he'll never believe that because he'll always blame himself. Despite being werewolves, we are all too human, and he was young, hormonal and stupid. He made a fatal mistake, but that bitch could have used any of the half dozen teenage wolves living here at the time."

"So, she thinks I can help him stop hating himself?" Stiles rolled her eyes and shook her head. "He won't even talk to me. Why did it have to be him?"

"I argued that it shouldn't," Peter replied softly, eyes glittering on the edge of supernatural, and Stiles found them mesmerizing. "The boy is broken and nothing we've done in six years has healed him. Why Talia thinks a teenage human girl can do it, I don't know."

"Were there ever any other options?"

"Maybe before the fire." His eyes darkened, then drifted away. "But after Talia focused everything on him. She wants the Alpha line to pass through him. Maybe she thinks that will help him. I've given up on trying to understand her reasoning where the boy is concerned. I love him, of course, but she has blinders on where he's concerned."

"She told me she blames herself because of her youngest kid being sick and all of her attention on her."

That seemed to surprise Peter. "Talia admitted that to you? Interesting." He tapped his chin again, then leaned forward. "She knew going into the ceremony that she was choosing you, not because of your age, though at sixteen you were the best candidate, but because she respects your father."

"I doubt my dad sees it that way."

Peter snorted in agreement which almost made Stiles smile. He was easy to get along with, interesting and handsome and why...

"I wish it had been you."

Startled, he stared at her until she felt her cheeks flame.

"I have no brain to mouth filter," she muttered, squirming in her chair.

"Stiles, I'm twice your age."

"Derek's an asshole."

As a counter, it only made him laugh, but it was a kind laugh and her embarrassment faded. "Could it have been you?"

"Maybe before the fire," he admitted, and Stiles' heart began to pound again and she didn't understand why. "I will promise to be your friend, though, always."

"Are mates monogamous? Is this a soul mate kind of thing? Was there supposed to be a ceremony or ritual or anything because nothing like that happened." And her face was coloring again.

Peter gave her a bemused look. "No, definitely not, and do you want one?"

She shook her head. "So, what happens now? Am I stuck in this house? Can I visit my dad and my friends? What about school? They don't tell us much of anything, you know. Just that one unlucky girl gets chosen, screwed, and impregnated over and over."

"You're not stuck here. You're not a prisoner, Stiles," was his gentle reply. "As for school, it's not customary, but mostly because of the pregnancies. Our werewolf children are home schooled because control doesn't come until the middle to late teenage years. You and Cora are the same age. I'd be happy to teach you as well."

A hint of bitterness snuck into her voice. "Does it really matter? It's not like I can go to college or have a career."

Peter shrugged. "It's up to you. I think you're intelligent enough that you'll get bored without some intellectual stimulation."

"You don't know anything about me."

That made him smile. "You think we don't research the possible candidates? Despite your ADHD, you maintain a four point oh grade point average and are second in your class by barely half a point. You've been in advanced placement classes since you started middle school, and you have a special gift for science and math."

"...Oh."

Derek didn't make an appearance at dinner and Stiles could tell Talia was unhappy about it. Daphne and Peter tried to make the meal less tense, but everyone was mostly quiet. As the evening passed watching tv--something so mundane that Stiles couldn't help but be bemused by it all--he still didn't show up and she went to bed alone.

Her phone held texts from her dad and Scott--concern and commiseration--and she sent back quick replies that she was fine, and promised herself she'd call them both tomorrow. Peter had provided her with the wifi password, so she spent some time online goofing off and playing WOW, trying not to think about Derek, wonder if he'd ever come back, or if he'd want...

Finally around midnight she changed into her usual sleep clothes, a t-shirt and flannel pants, and climbed into bed, keeping to the side where the night stand was neat and empty, figuring the messy side was Derek's. Stiles didn't expect to sleep well, but, once she finally stopped worrying and dropped off, she did.

When she awoke shortly after dawn, yawning and stretching, she felt the bed shift beside her and went still, her heartbeat ramping up. Slowly turning her head, she saw Derek's back to her, the sheet pooled around his hips. He was obviously naked.

Swallowing hard, Stiles slid off her side of the bed and, never taking her eyes off his sleeping form, padded silently over to the dresser to gather clothes, before slipping into the bathroom and locking the door behind her.

She had no confidence that the lock would keep him out if he wanted in, and took the quickest shower ever before dressing in jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt. When she hesitantly emerged, she found the bed and the room empty, and relief flooded her.

The next several days passed quickly as Stiles integrated herself into the household and Derek only made appearances after she was asleep. Within forty-eight hours she was bored enough to start attending the makeshift classes with Cora, most of them under Peter's tutelage, and began to explore the truly excellent and esoteric library the Hales had gathered over centuries. Wanting to pitch in with the housework, she helped Daphne make dinner and clean the kitchen afterwards, and went for walks through the extensive wintering gardens most afternoons.

She called her dad every day and spent an hour or so on skype with Scott each night helping him with his homework.

In unspoken agreement, Derek and her non-existent relationship with him were never mentioned.

After lunch on Friday, Stiles returned to the makeshift classroom to find a new book next to her laptop. Cora had one as well and, after taking one look at it, she groaned.

"I know all this."

"But Stiles doesn't," Peter said patiently as he entered behind them and took his seat at the head of the table. "And it's important that she knows the history of the Hale Pack and the hierarchy of wolf packs in general, our governance and laws."

"Why? It's not like she's ever going to leave here."

The petulant tone in Cora's voice surprised Stiles. She thought they'd been getting along pretty well.

"Cora," Peter snapped, something in his voice making the girl straighten her spine from her slumped position. When his eyes flashed gold, Cora ducked her head.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Peter."

"You don't owe me an apology." The emphasis on the pronoun made Cora flush and turn her eyes to Stiles.

"I'm sorry, Stiles."

"Um...It's okay?" The tension in the room was making her uncomfortable. It wasn't like she would be going anywhere outside the Hale Pack's territory.

Peter's eyes returned to their normal blue as they turned to her. "Cora's statement wasn't completely accurate. If Derek rises to the position of Laura's Second as I was to Talia, you may very well be asked to accompany him to certain meetings and ceremonies, even before the American Council of Werewolves."

"Wait, what? But, you never leave the territory. You don't even go on escort duty." Cora's brows furrowed in confusion.

"Not since the fire, but I did many times before. When your mother was hospitalized for so long, I essentially became her voice and delegated those duties to your Uncle Joseph. Once she was able to act as Alpha again, I decided my place was here at her side."

"You're not her Second anymore?" Stiles curiosity was going into overdrive. Just the title of the book in front of her intrigued her enough to want to learn everything. 'A General Treatise on Werewolf Pack Structure.' A peek inside revealed it had been published only the year before by a company she'd never heard of.

"No. The Second is basically the face of the pack to the world at large. After we lost so many, I never felt right leaving, so I moved into a new position. It's chapter seven, by the way."

Stiles' fingers were moving before she could even think, and she flipped open the book, skimming through to... "Enforcer?"

Oh.

"I like to think of myself more along the lines of a protector."

"I have so many questions." His indulgent smile made her flush, but didn't put her off. "Are there books published just for supernaturals? Because the ones in the town library are very general and kind of more like myths and legends over history. Are there biographies of famous werewolves? And what's this council you mentioned? And is there protocol I'm going to have to learn because I've never been good with manners or keeping my mouth shut."

Peter's smile widened into a pleased grin. "Let's start with chapter one, basic heirarchical structure. This is a new book, much more modern. The one I was taught from, for instance, insisted that humans in a pack should never look the Alpha in the eye and never address the Alpha first."

"Boy, I blew that in the first minute."

Cora rolled her eyes and muttered, "Can I do math instead?" She hated math.

"No. You can assist me in teaching Stiles how the world really works here in Beacon County and on Hale territory and how that differs from say customs and protocols on the East Coast. I know you've been learning them."

As the werewolf girl flushed and dropped her eyes, Stiles shot Peter a confused look. "Why?"

"Cora?"

"Um, they're only preliminary talks, but I might be mating with the son of an Alpha in North Carolina."

"You guys have arranged marriages?"

"Sort of, sometimes, though mom wouldn't make me. I'd have to meet him and like him and agree. Love matches are more common in our Pack. Mom and my dad, they met at some meeting in San Francisco and fell in love, so that can happen, and Laura and Geoff met at college."

"Wait, you guys go to college?" 

"When a human from Beacon County goes to college, one of our wolves usually accompanies them, sometimes as a student, sometimes as a teacher. Other times we make a deal with a pack in that area or if there are several of our humans at one school, usually one Hale wolf is enough," Peter explained.

But, there were probably a couple hundred people away at school...

"Peter, how big is the Pack?"

Now his smile turned proud and made her feel good, weird, but good. "There's the main part of the Pack, the Hale family, and you've met most of them outside of a couple cousins off on college duty. But the Hale Pack itself has several hundred members, the vast majority of whom are bitten wolves, either born as humans to the Pack or mated into it or those rare humans who want the Bite."

Stiles' quick mind latched onto one question spawned by that simple statement. "Then why do you need me? I mean, if you can just bite people, your own human children..."

"The Bite doesn't always take. No one knows for sure why, and there have been many studies on the subject. It seems to work better with young people between the ages of sixteen and twenty four, and that's why at eighteen our Alpha asks human pack members if they want the Bite. After that age, they can always ask for it, but there are those, like Cora's oldest brother, Nick, who refused and will probably never ask for it. But, the real reason we need young women like you is that stable Alphas only come from the main familial line and are born werewolves. A bitten werewolf who rises to Alpha can actually weaken a pack. There's an innate quality in born wolves, stronger in those of the familial line. So, we try to keep the women like you in the family because you will bear only werewolf children and they all have the potential to be Alphas. Bloodlines are very important to werewolf packs. The Hales can trace theirs back for nearly two millennia of born wolves to born wolves."

"So, Laura, even though she was lucky to be born a wolf...?"

"Will be fine because she's being trained by one of the finest Alphas on the West Coast, and her successor, we hope, will be one of your children. In actuality, it's rare for every Alpha in a Pack to be born to the human women such as you. Twenty years ago there were no males of age and without a mate in the direct bloodline, and it's frowned on for a male with a mate to take another, so Sarah went to a cousin. While we're not always monogamous, what you would think of as divorce is practically unheard of, either because wolves tend to fall in love for life if they love at all, or because of alliances made through a mating. You don't want to piss off the pack your mate is from by dumping them, and the same with the women like you as it could break the Pact."

"But, I read somewhere that the women like me, sometimes they're shared..." Stiles felt herself flushing, but all of this information seemed to be contradictory to things she'd read over the years or just plain confusing.

"Customs change." Peter's eyes flared a bit, and Stiles felt a warm glow come over her.  


"That really happened?" Cora gaped at her uncle. "I thought that was just wishful thinking by some of my stupid male cousins."

Peter shrugged. "We don't do that anymore, haven't for at least eighty years, just as formal challenges for mates within a pack don't happen in ours anymore."

"What's that?"

He glanced at Stiles, something dark in his eyes. "It used to be accepted custom in the Hale Pack, as it still is in others, for one member to challenge another for their mate. A fight, sometimes to the death. Talia's grandmother put a stop to it as it only caused fractures within the Pack, caused some members, usually close family of the loser, to leave. We occasionally have someone outside the Pack issue a challenge, but these are highly regulated and never to the death. If the challenger wins, the mate who was fought over, leaves the Pack. The last time it happened was an aunt of mine when I was a child. She was mated into our Pack and was never happy. A former lover challenged my uncle. Family stories say he didn't fight very hard for her, and since he took a new mate within a year, a woman he loved very much until they died in the fire..."

"So, someone could challenge Derek?"

"No, it's against werewolf law for an outsider to challenge for the woman chosen like you as, if the outsider won, he would take her away from her home territory which probably would break the Pact."

"What about within the Pack?"

"It's...not illegal, just not really acceptable. It's never happened in the Hale Pack since we made the Pact with Beacon County." 

Peter wasn't looking at her anymore, and Stiles frowned. He looked...almost nervous. "So, it could happen?"

"You're Derek's," Cora answered flatly, obviously defending her brother. "You shouldn't even be thinking about causing that kind of trouble in..."

"Cora," Peter said, voice hard and cold. "That's enough. Stiles is just asking questions about her place and future in the Pack. That's why we're going to spend the next few weeks on this book and subject."

"Yeah, no, I wouldn't. I mean, why would anyone else want me?" After addressing Cora's concern, Stiles turned her attention back to the book, her fingers fiddling with the pages.

"Let's get back to the discussion on Alphas." Both girls looked at Peter whose face was calm, his eyes no longer stormy. "As I said, not every generation's Alpha is born to the human woman, of course. My father, for instance, was the only werewolf born to his mother, the Alpha, out of eight children. He was never a very strong Alpha, and he certainly wasn't well respected. Having Daphne as his mate kept the Hale Pack powerful enough to maintain control over the territory. You've heard the phrase 'the power behind the throne'?" 

Stiles nodded. There was a quiet strength in Daphne she hoped to emulate in herself. "How old was Talia when she became the Alpha?"

"She was twenty-six. I was sixteen, your age. Now, let's start with the Council and the annual conference where laws are made or amended."

While she had a million more questions about this pack, Stiles opened her book and clicked open a new Word document to take notes. They could wait.

After dinner that night, Stiles felt Peter's eyes on her as she finished putting away the leftovers. Turning from the refrigerator, she saw him watching her from the door to the backyard, before he opened it and stepped outside, leaving the door ajar.

A warmth spread through her, confusing her. His eyes had been intense, not the eyes of her teacher or first friend in the Pack, but of something else. For a moment she hesitated, then Daphne's hand brushed her cheek.

"He wants you to follow him," she said softly, nodding to the open door through which a cool breeze was blowing. The day had been unseasonably warm for February and the night was the same, but Stiles felt an odd chill and wrapped her red hoodie around herself tighter.

"I...I shouldn't," she whispered, but she wanted to.

Five days and she hadn't seen more than a fleeting glimpse of Derek. She had no idea where he was, what he did all day or when he finally came home, just knew that he slept beside her every night.

She hardly knew anything about him, but she knew Peter, or, at least, was getting to know him.

Nibbling on her lower lip, Stiles made up her mind and went outside, softly closing the door behind her.

The three quarter moon and bright stars lit up the gardens, but still her human eyes could barely make out Peter in the distance, entering the gazebo. Hoping she didn't fall over anything, Stiles followed him.

He leaned against the support of the exit to the woods, looking into the darkened trees where a narrow white gravel path wove between them.

"I became Talia's Second when I turned eighteen--we age and mature the same as humans until our late teens, which is why the Bite is rarely given to anyone under eighteen, and we have no vote or voice in our pack or government until then, just like humans--but I was, in fact, her Enforcer from the age of sixteen. For years I tried to balance the two positions because Talia wanted me as her Second. The fire actually brought me relief as I found the strength to cede the one. I was never...comfortable as the face of the Pack. I do much better in the shadows."

Even though Peter wasn't looking at her, Stiles felt the tension coming from him, and it was making her heart pound and her breath quicken.

"Ask your question, Stiles," he softly encouraged.

"What happened when you were sixteen?" Her voice was a whisper, but she knew he could hear her.

"I killed the Alpha and pushed his power into Talia."

Stiles froze, but not from fear and not entirely from shock.

When Peter turned to face her, his eyes glowed molten gold, and her own eyes jerked to his. One thing she had learned was the reason for blue eyes, though she didn't know why Derek's were the color of a killer. Peter had killed, but his eyes were golden.

"He wasn't innocent, Stiles. For nearly a year leading up to that night, his mind had been fading into paranoia and insanity. He resented Daphne even while he needed her to keep him in power. Blaming her for every weakness in himself, he beat her, and one night broke her wrist. I found her out here, crying, scared, her wrist already purple from the fracture. We both knew he could kill her on purpose or by accident and get away with it. She was too old to have children any longer, and I was afraid for her, afraid he'd see no more need for her. All that went unspoken though as I set the bone and soothed her bruises. In that moment, I hated my father more than I ever had, and I knew he had to die, just as I knew Talia couldn't do it. She'd lose half the Pack if she did. So, a few nights later, when the moon was at its thinnest, as he ranted about his worthless human mate, I lured him into those woods. As he sneered at me, called me a worthless weakling, a bastard, a disappointment, said I'd have been better off never being born, I grabbed him from behind and tore off his head."

Stiles knew she should be horrified, should run back into the house, but she had seen the truth and the pain on Peter's face during his confession, understood his devotion to Daphne and Talia, and her own pragmatic side came to the fore.

"I have three questions."

That seemed to actually surprise him--maybe he'd expected her to run, too--but he warily nodded.

"Does anyone know?"

"Not for certain. We'd been having a problem with Omegas coming into the territory, mostly because word was beginning to spread that there were weakness in the Hale Pack, in the Hale Alpha. His death was attributed to one of them, though I'm sure Talia knows and Daphne suspects."

"Why didn't the power go to you?"

"Because I refused it. I didn't do it for myself. I didn't want to be Alpha. I sent it where it was destined to go if he'd died of natural causes or at the hands of anyone but a werewolf."

"Okay." That made sense, though she figured it had to take a powerful strength of will to deny the Alpha spark. "Why are you telling me this?"

For several minutes Peter was silent, then he walked across the floor to her, stopping only a foot in front of her, forcing her to look up to meet his turbulent eyes. Carefully, as if he was afraid she'd reject him, he cupped one of her cheeks. "I don't know. I...I want you to know me completely, but I don't know why. I've never told this to anyone." His thumb brushed the soft skin beneath her eye, and Stiles breath caught in her throat. Peter's voice dropped to a murmur. "You intrigue me. You challenge me. You're the only person in this family who is my intellectual equal." Slowly he leaned down and Stiles licked her lips and softly moaned. "And you are so lovely, Stiles."

He was going to kiss her.

He...

In an instant, Peter was gone into the woods, and Stiles felt her knees nearly give out, forcing her to stagger to the bench that lined the inner walls of the gazebo.

Jesus...

Hoping he'd come back, Stiles stayed in the Gazebo for several hours until the growing cold and her own tiredness drove her back into the house. As she bypassed the family room where a few people were watching the news, she felt the Alpha's eyes on her and tried not to blush, hurrying up the stairs and to her room.

Where she froze, hand on the doorknob, her stomach dropping to her knees, because Derek was there, sitting on the end of the bed wearing only a pair of low-slung, faded jeans, his head in his hands. He'd never waited for her, never been there first, only coming in when she was asleep. Would he want...? 

Slowly he looked up at her and his eyes narrowed, then he rose and stripped off his jeans, kicking them aside, leaving him in only a pair of black boxer briefs that did nothing to hide the shape and size of his dick.

But, he didn't make a move to take those off and he didn't say anything to her. All he did was climb into bed and turn away from her and...oh.

Swallowing in relief, Stiles closed the door, grabbed some pajamas, and fled to the bathroom.

When she awoke the next morning from weird and wildly erotic dreams, Derek was gone, and Stiles hurried into the bathroom this time to shower and bring herself off twice.

It was only when she was trembling beneath the hot spray of water that she acknowledged the dreams hadn't involved some faceless man or even her favorite movie star.

They'd been about Peter.

Stiles was a bit nervous about facing him and, as it was a Saturday and there were no classes, she managed to avoid him until after lunch when he found her reading in the conservatory, hiding amongst the ferns and orchids. When he took a seat across from her, she couldn't look at him, just fiddled nervously with the string of her hoodie.

"Stiles? Did my confession last night...Did it make you..."

Peter at a loss for words was so shocking that she jerked her head up, and only then did what he was saying sink in.

Of course he didn't know she was having sex dreams about him!

"No, no, it's not that. It's...just me. I don't know." She started picking at a frayed spot in the right knee of her jeans, glad when he seemed relieved.

"You've been here nearly a week and you're doing amazingly well. I know you speak to your father every day. Would you like to go visit him?

Sudden joy filled her and she looked up again. "Can I?"

"For a while someone will need to accompany you outside the Preserve into the territory we share with the humans, but, yes. I need to pick up a few things in Beacon Hills. If you promise to stay at your father's, I can leave you with him for a couple hours."

"Yes!"

He smiled indulgently at her, but she didn't care. She was going to see her dad!

With a wave to Peter as he pulled out of the driveway, Stiles knocked and opened the door, calling, "Dad?" Beacon County was a pretty peaceful place, so her dad rarely worked weekends and his cruiser was in the driveway, but she'd wanted to surprise him so hadn't called first.

John poked his head out of the living room, a smile of surprise on his face. "Stiles?"

Flying into his open arms, she hugged him tightly, voice choked up. "Hey, dad."

"Are you okay, kiddo?" At the concern in his voice, she pulled back slightly and nodded.

"Missed you."

"I missed you, too," he said as he pulled her in again.

After a long, long hug, they meandered into the living room and sat on the couch, John's arm around her shoulders, Stiles' arm across his chest and her head pressed there. The silence was comfortable, but finally she sat up, half turning to her father, her leg folded beneath her.

"I...didn't expect to see you so soon." There was a ruddy flush on his cheeks, but his eyes held hers.

"I'm not quite sure of the rules for that." She shrugged. "I'm not a prisoner, dad."

"I know, but the Hales rarely come to town."

"Yeah, but there's more than just them. Did you know how big the Pack really is? I mean, we kids are told so very little and I just assumed it was the twenty or so actually named Hale, but there are several hundred, some of them human, most of them descendants of the original line as they've intermixed with other packs and humans. Dad, they're nowhere near as insular as we were taught, are they."

John smiled, shaking his head. "You are just too smart."

"Yep." And she knew what questions to ask and how to find the answers without verbally asking them. The internet was a mess of contradictory information and downright lies but she'd learned along time ago how to filter out the truth.

"You're right, the core of the Pack is the Hales and the Alpha bloodline, but there are human descendants living in the towns, going to school, working in the grocery stores and hospitals etc. The werewolves live on the border, permanent guards at the barriers, but they come into the towns a lot. Most humans just don't know it. There are even some werewolves who prefer to work in the town rather than provide escorts, and live amongst us. It's not something widely known because, while we humans rely on the wolves for protection, prejudice and fear still exist."

"But, people do leave. We're taught that humans rarely leave their home communities, but that's not true. I never really gave it much thought, but mom grew up in San Francisco. You had to leave to meet her."

"When the Pact was formed, a decision was made to keep the truth from children. We just got used to keeping a lot of truths from them and that just carried on as the children grew up. I...if you hadn't been chosen, I was going to start talking about colleges with you this summer."

"And, see, I never knew there was any other option than Beacon County College!" It was frustrating, all the secrets, all the disinformation.

John sighed. "You're right. Once we tell the kids the truth, we need to tell the whole truth, that they're not trapped here forever, and that, if they leave, they don't have to return."

"Don't blame yourself, dad. I think we all have self-installed blinders. I mean, I never wondered how we got books that were published in New York or coffee from Central America. It all comes in with werewolf guards, right?"

"Yeah, or with them as the drivers. It's a popular profession for werewolves." He gave her a stern look. "Don't disregard the dangers, though, Stiles. Outside the borders, they're very real, and large cities struggle to keep citizens safe. We're a small territory with a human population of under a hundred thousand with a very powerful werewolf pack protecting us, but there's a reason that kids that go to college away from here have a wolf protector. Most places aren't as safe and secure as Beacon County. The magicks at the border that alert us to incursions take a strong pack to maintain and cities struggle with that. When the fire wiped out so many of the core of the Hale Pack and with Talia so badly injured, we lost nearly three dozen humans to the supernatural. The magic faltered."

Stiles felt herself go pale. She hadn't realized... "Peter couldn't hold it?"

"He did his best, but he was emotionally devastated, and Laura was too young to help much." John gave her a small smile. "You're obviously learning a lot about the much bigger world than our own little one, but let's talk about something else, okay? How long can you visit?"

Relieved at the change of subject, because she was still learning and needed time to process, she glanced at her watch. "Peter will be back in about an hour."

John frowned. "Peter? Not Derek?"

"Um...no?"

His brow furrowed even more and she tried not to squirm. "Stiles, I...I don't want to know details, God, no, but...are you okay?"

Blushing, she looked away. "Yeah, I'm fine. I...Derek and I are fine," she lied, grateful that her dad was human, though a very perceptive one. "Peter's my teacher. I'm learning all about pack structure and their governance. It's all very fascinating and something I never thought about before. Did you know they have their own government and laws, and that in Europe there's even werewolf royalty?"

"Yes, I did."

Stiles rolled her eyes. "Of course you did. Humans need to seriously think about integrating more than the basics on werewolves into school."

"Most humans don't care, Stiles."

"Well, I do!"

John chuckled and hugged her close. "About everything, I know. Your first word wasn't ma or da but..."

"Why, yes, I know," she said with an indulgently smile. "Now, are you eating right?"

"Stiles..." he groaned.

Bouncing up off the couch, she headed for the kitchen. "There better be green things in the fridge! And I better not find donuts!"

He followed her, arriving as she gaped at the row of tupperware containers in the refrigerator. "Um, my deputies all think I'm going to starve or eat junk food, and they're all scared of you concerning the latter."

Grinning, Stiles opened the vegetable bin and was happy to see that there was an open, half full bag of salad, some carrots, and two apples. She poked around for a few more seconds, then closed the door. "Is that Ms. McCall's low-fat bean enchiladas in there?"

John got ruddy again and rubbed the back of his neck. "Leftovers. She invited me over to dinner last Monday night. We're...going to do it again next week."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, and I went over to Tara and Jim's two nights ago for roast chicken," he quickly added. "I'm being well taken care of, Stiles, and I can cook, you know."

"Yeah, I know. I just worry. Without me here..."

He took her shoulder, squeezing it gently. "You would have been leaving in a couple years, sweetheart. I've been preparing for that eventuality."

"Well, I'm not going anywhere any time soon, and I'll come see you as often as I can and maybe you can come to dinner some time, I'll have to check. I..."

"Stiles," her dad interrupted softly. "If it's allowed, I'd like that. I want to meet Derek."

"Oh, yeah." She could feel herself stiffening at the thought of her barely seen mate. "We're...still...It's a work in progress?"

"Understandable." They were both clearly uncomfortable with this subject so John changed it. "Scott said you're helping with his homework every night like usual."

"Yeah." Relieved, she smiled, and she poured them each glasses of iced tea as she chattered about Scott, his besottment with some new girl named Allison, the upcoming lacrosse season and her hopes to go to some of the games. As they sat at the kitchen table and drank the tea and nibbled on healthy raisins and nuts, she segued into the continuation of her own education, telling him about Cora and her distaste for math, and Peter as a teacher. She was in the middle of telling him about the Hale library and the esoteric books Peter had shown her a couple days before, when the doorbell rang, and she realized how much time had passed.

Trailing behind her dad, she watched him open the front door and nod to Peter. "Peter."

"John, it's good to see you." They shook hands. 

"Stiles tells me you're teaching her, helping her continue her education."

"She's a delight to teach. I'm enjoying the intellectual stimulation myself." Peter peered around her dad's broad shoulder. "Did you have a good visit, Stiles?"

"Yeah." There was something weird in the air, making her uncomfortable. Peter's eyes glittered at her and her dad continued to block the door. "Um, dad?"

Slowly John shifted to the side, but his eyes remained on Peter. "Next time I'd like to meet Derek."

"Yeah, okay, sure." Rising on her toes, she pressed a kiss to her dad's cheek, and that seemed to break the tension in him, and he hugged her hard.

"Love you, kiddo."

"Love you, too."

As she followed Peter down the walk to the car she could feel her dad's eyes lingering on her. Once in the passenger seat she watched him close the door, and felt her heart sink a bit. For the last week she'd tried not to think about him much outside of their daily phone calls, because she missed him so much.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." It came out a bit numbly. "Can I...? Will I be able to come see him again?"

"Of course, and he can come visit you, too, Talia's already agreed." He started the engine and pulled out of the driveway. "In some cases, the family of the chosen human girl turn their backs on her, as if they're embarrassed, or, maybe more precisely, because she's a painful reminder of the Pact, but that's obviously not going to happen with you."

"No, he'd never abandon me." Frankly she was appalled at the families who had in the past.

Peter shot he a smile. "Familial loyalty and love are big in werewolf packs. I knew you were the right choice all along."

Flushing a little at the compliment, Stiles noticed a bag from the local bookstore at her feet. "What's this?"

"You mentioned that your DVD had cracked, and I discovered my old VHS tape was too worn, so I picked that up for you. Maybe we could watch it together. None of the younger pack members have any interest in the classics." 

Half way through his comments, she was already digging into the bag and making happy noises. "Metropolis. Oh, Peter, thank you!"

As they were stopped at a red light, she leaned over and kissed his cheek before going back to reading the blurb on the remastered new release of her favorite movie, only half aware that Peter's hand was touching his cheek.

It took Stiles nearly two days to realize Derek was gone. She'd gotten so accustomed to him being absent from the house and their room, that she rarely gave him much thought. This time she realized it when she realized it had been a couple days since she'd picked up his dirty clothes from the floor or wiped down the wet shower after he'd used it. When she asked, Peter told her he and three others were escorting a couple of local politicians to Sacramento for a conference. From his frown she knew that she should have realized Derek was gone sooner and made a promise to herself that she'd pay more attention.

Frankly, it was a relief that he was gone, but a tiny part of her was worried about him and that just confused her. She barely knew Derek. Sometimes she could hardly remember what he looked like.

Then, recalling Peter's frown, she worried that she wasn't making enough of an effort and spent an evening researching voided pacts. There were several, and they happened for many reasons, the most pertinent being a failure of the woman to get pregnant or her outright refusal of her mate.

In every recorded instance that she could find where one of those two were the reason, the blame was always placed on the human woman.

Except...Stiles wasn't refusing Derek and he was the one who wasn't trying to get her pregnant. She was sixteen, had never even dated let alone kissed a boy outside of Scott when they were both thirteen and wanted to see what the fuss was all about. This wasn't her fault. She didn't even know where to begin to make a twenty-two year old man want her. Just the thought of trying to seduce him made her go both hot and cold and just bewildered her.

But, she couldn't be the reason the Pact was broken.

Finally, head aching, she closed the books, turned off her computer and headed up to bed. It was nearly midnight and she'd completely ignored the paper Peter had assigned on the history of the Council. She'd have to get up early to work on it. Yawning and rubbing her temples, she pushed open the door to her room to find Derek stripping off his clothes, an impatient look on his face.

"Where have you been?"

Before she could do more than gape at him--and silently curse herself for not asking when he'd be back--he shrugged his broad shoulders and climbed naked onto the bed.

"Get over here. My mother knows we haven't been doing our duty." As he spoke, he dug into the night stand drawer, and Stiles went cold as she saw him pull out the jar of lube. Remembering their only time together, the pain and his complete disregard for making her feel anything good, she found herself backing up, shaking her head. She wasn't denying him, not really, but this was all too sudden and she'd become complacent.

Flashing his eyes at her and dropping his fangs, Derek growled and was on her before she could protest. Hard, clawed hands bit into her shoulders, pressing her against the door, as his nostrils flared and his eyes glared down into hers. Forgetting all about being conciliatory, forgetting about the Pact, Stiles struggled, pushing her fists against his chest, biting back angry words. While the bedrooms had some soundproofing, she knew if she yelled, she'd be heard.

She really didn't want to find out if no one would come to help her.

Derek pulled at her shirt, ripping it as she struggled to keep him from undressing her, but he was determined and so much stronger than her. Exhausted in minutes, she was unable to stop him from manhandling her nude and shaking over the end of the bed, his heavy body blanketing her as his knees shoved her thighs apart.

As he pushed into her without any preparation and raw pain hit her, sanity returned, and Stiles stopped struggling.

"Please...stop," she pled, voice muffled by the tangled comforter, tears stinging her eyes as he fucked her at a hard, fast pace, growling and grunting the entire time. It hurt and it scared her.

He scared her.

A shiver went through her and she dug her fingers into the bedding, squeezing her eyes shut and praying it would end soon.

That's when his claws pricked the thin skin at her hips. Shocked, Stiles tried to get away, and the claws sank deeper, the slight sting turning to raw pain, and she cried out.

Derek went still and then his hands jerked away, followed by his whole body. "I...I'm sorry," he whispered, horror in his voice. And then he was gone, the door of the bathroom slamming behind him.

Shaking from head to foot, tears streaming down her cheeks, Stiles dragged herself up the bed and beneath the blankets. She could feel blood seeping from the claw marks and dimly wondered if they'd scar.

Mostly she was just scared.

And Derek was so angry.

How were they going to make this work?

Sniffling, she swiped at her wet cheeks and tried to stop crying, only to go completely still and silent when the bathroom door opened again. When she felt him join her on the bed, she just wanted to scream at him to go away, but, instead, found herself holding her breath.

The blankets were pushed down and she choked. No. No more. She couldn't take it.

But he didn't roll her over and take her again, despite the fact that he again hadn't come inside her. Instead she felt gentle fingers smoothing some kind of cool balm onto the marks on her hip, before he did turn her onto her stomach but only to tend to the other side.

"I didn't mean to claw you," Derek said dully. "I don't know what the Hell I'm doing."

It was the most he'd said to her in their ten days as mates, and slowly Stiles rolled her head to look at him. There was contrition on his face, the first emotion other than anger and frustration she'd seen, but she wasn't ready to forgive him.

As if he realized that, he nodded to himself and set the bottle he'd been dipping into on the night stand before covering her back up and moving as far to his side of the bed as he could get.

While the stinging in her hips had faded, the ache between her legs remained, and despite the warmth of the blankets and sharing the bed with a hotter than human werewolf, Stiles felt cold both inside and out.

Turning away from Derek, she stared out the window at the nearly full moon, not sleeping until nearly dawn.

She came awake with a start to find her mate on his knees between her spread thighs, one slick hand pumping his cock to erection, three fingers of the other buried inside her. Gasping in surprise and pain, Stiles pushed up to her elbows and tried to kick out at him, but when their eyes met for a moment, she went still, barely breathing.

Derek looked so sad, but also determined. "We have to," he whispered, slowly pulling his slippery fingers from her.

For the first time Stiles realized that Derek had no choice either. This was what they were both here for.

"Okay," Stiles whispered, as she sank back down and closed her eyes. A minute later, Derek moved over her and pushed inside, thrusting at a quick pace, obviously trying to get it over with. It didn't hurt much, but it just felt...empty.

When he pulled out and spilled across her stomach, she gasped, eyes flying open.

"What the Hell?"

As he shook over her, Derek gave her no other response but an empty look, before he was off the bed and in the bathroom.

Making a face at the sticky mess on her skin, Stiles grabbed the sheet and wiped at it, before rolling into a ball on Derek's side of the bed and, determined to ignore everything, fell back asleep.

A few hours later when Stiles met with Peter for her calculus lesson, he frowned at her and looked like he was going to say something, but then stopped himself and turned to the equation on the whiteboard.

Derek still avoided her during the days, but he began to come to the family dinner, sitting next to her. At night he joined her in bed before she went to sleep, and three nights after the second time they had sex, he took out the jar of lube and gave her a solemn look. Mentally preparing herself just as he prepared her body, Stiles let her mind drift as best she could and tried not to wonder if this would be all she'd ever have of him, of any man. Thanks to the lube, it didn't hurt anymore. She didn't fight or resist, but he barely touched her, never kissed her, and still pulled out before coming somewhere on her skin.

When he was done, he disappeared into the bathroom for a shower, and Stiles fell asleep confused and alone.

Three nights later it happened again and Stiles figured this was their routine now, but they still never talked, and she didn't know how to ask him why he was doing everything he could to prevent a pregnancy. It was a constant worry.

Her first full moon with the Pack was celebrated outside with a feast, howls and dancing, until the wolves went for a run in the forest. Stiles met a lot of the ancillary pack members, spending time chatting with several of the humans and keeping an eye on the kids, both wolf and human, who ran around playing tag, hide 'n seek and other familiar games.

Around one in the morning, she helped Daphne up to her room, then went to her own to fall into a dreamless sleep, only to be awakened by Derek's hands running over her, his wolf-blue eyes gleaming in the dark. Naked, he rubbed against her, and she blushed at the feel of his erect cock butting her hip where he'd tugged down her pajama pants and pushed up her top.

For the first time he touched her breasts, fingering her nipples to hardness, and Stiles held her breath, waiting to see if he'd kiss her.

But, the moon pulled on him and he was partially shifted, fangs distended. As he grabbed the jar, his claws popped out and he growled in annoyance, then handed the lube to her.

Blushing bright red, Stiles wriggled out of her pants and panties, then, bare except for her top pushed up over her breasts, she dipped her fingers into the jar to coat them, then slid them into her body.

Derek's eyes darkened, his nostrils flared wider, and a low whine broke from him. Fascinated, she watched his foreskin slip back, pearly liquid form at the tip of his cock, and she felt...something, a tightness low in her belly, and her muscles clenched around her fingers.

"Now," Derek growled as his eyebrows disappeared and fur sprouted on his cheeks. As soon as she pulled her fingers free, he was on her, thrusting deep and fast, a continual growl reverberating from him. His blue eyes locked onto her brown ones and they were so intense, so...needy.

Just as Stiles began to think this time he'd stay in her, Derek bit back a howl and jerked from her, spilling hot across her thighs.

The howl turned mournful as he staggered from the bed, not for the bathroom as normal, but the balcony. With one last confused look at her, he threw himself out the door and over the wooden railing.

Shocked, Stiles stared after him, then slowly rose to pull her clothes back on before slipping outside to look down. There was no sign of Derek, but in the distance she heard another mournful howl and it sent shivers down her spine.

As tears of confusion pricked her eyes, she slowly turned and went back inside, closing the door behind her.

Stiles was a little worried someone would ask her about the sad howling, but no one mentioned anything about she and Derek, and he was there at dinner, ignoring everyone, but none the worse for wear.

Mentally shrugging, she turned her attention to her rare roast beef and heaping pile of mashed potatoes, listening to Laura and Talia discussing an upcoming visit from the Alpha of a pack in Bakersfield.

A couple nights later Stiles was curled on the sofa in the library with Peter lounging in a wingback chair, both reading in easy companionship until suddenly he was on the sofa next to her, nose buried in her neck. It wasn't completely surprising as all the wolves outside of Derek scented her on a semi-regular basis, Peter more than most, but the frown on his face wiped the instinctive smile from her own.

"You're not pregnant."

Confused, Stiles shook her head because, while there was always a slim chance that pulling out would fail, she'd pretty much expected it wouldn't, then she remembered Peter didn't know that, no one but she and Derek knew that, and she frowned.

"Um..."

As he pulled back from her, he actually flushed and dropped his eyes. "Your cycle's starting."

Oh.

Stiles blushed, then shrugged. In the near month she'd lived with the Pack she'd come to realize that bodily functions weren't a secret around werewolves. "Well...we don't...I mean, it's not every night, so, no guarantee," she stammered.

"No, of course not, we just..." Sighing heavily, Peter rubbed his hands over his thighs in a nervous gesture she never would have expected from him. "Talia hoped that now that Derek was finally doing his duty, it wouldn't take long."

Duty. Derek had referred to it as that on the night he'd clawed her. Stiles felt the blush on her cheeks deepen. 

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about," Peter said brusquely.

"You all know when," she managed to choke out. Except for the last time, Derek made hardly any noise and Stiles wouldn't know how to, so how...?

Peter tapped his nose, and Stiles buried her groan in her hands. 

"Jesus."

And that's when it hit her, the truth of why Derek came on her, but it still didn't give her the answer to the one question she desperately needed an answer for. Determined to demand it now, Stiles jumped to her feet and mumbled a good night before flying out of the library and going on a search for her mate.

Despite her lack of caring for Derek--mostly because he refused to spend hardly any time alone with her and when he did it was for empty sex--her curiosity had gotten the better of her and she'd learned some of his routine. Derek spent a lot of time in the basement gym or in the forest cutting dead trees into logs to sell in town--as the fireplaces in the mansion and all the compound's houses were for show only. As it was too dark for wood chopping, she checked out the basement and found him doing pull ups.

Standing in the doorway, she spent a moment admiring his sweat slick bared chest and sturdy thighs. The shorts he wore did little to conceal his perfect body.

Derek was truly gorgeous.

Dropping lightly to the floor, he turned to look at her, then grabbed a towel to wipe the sweat from his face and chest. As he tossed it into a hamper, he stiffened and turned fully towards her, before frowning.

"I'll sleep somewhere else this week," he muttered, heading for the door.

What?

Oh. Jesus. She hadn't even started.

Moving quickly to block his exit only made him glare at her and she glared back, until he sighed and ran a hand through his damp hair.

"What do you want?"

"Why do you pull out?"

To her surprise Derek didn't blush or look guilty, he looked horrified, going pale and stricken. His hands fluttered out, probably to push her aside, but then he just staggered back, retreating to the far side of the gym.

"What the Hell, Derek?" she yelled because she'd had it. She wanted answers. It wasn't that she particularly wanted a baby, but his actions made no sense, and he wouldn't talk to her. "I'm not letting you out of here until you explain this to me. I've been patient for three weeks. I've put up with you being an ass to me, never talking to me, fucking me with less caring than you'd show a hooker, but I've had it. You come on me so that everyone thinks you're trying to get me pregnant." His eyes zipped to hers and she snarled at him. "I'm not stupid, but what you're doing doesn't make any sense."

"Do you want my baby?" he snarled back.

"I'm sixteen. I don't want anyone's baby, but that's what I'm here for and I'm not going to be some technicality that allows your mom to break the Pact."

Derek paled even more and shook his head. "She wouldn't..."

"She could. It's happened before, in other packs. I'm doing what I'm supposed to. Why aren't you?"

Silence fell and she watched him struggle for words, struggle against himself, but she wouldn't let this go. For three weeks she'd let him ignore her except for those fifteen minutes or so every three nights when he fucked her, and she wasn't going to tolerate it any longer. As Derek sank against the wall, head down, breath coming hard and fast, Stiles walked towards him. His claws came out and he bared his fangs at her, but she wasn't scared he'd lash out at her. The one time he'd clawed her, he'd been truly sorry--it was one of the only positive emotions he'd ever shown her. Stopping a few feet in front of him, she crossed her arms over her chest and gave him an impatient look.

Instead of yelling at her or snarling or just wolfing out and running, Derek slowly sank to the floor, drawing his knees up and tightly wrapping his arms around them before dropping his head between them. This was the last thing she expected from him. Stunned, she went to her knees before him and barely heard his desolate whisper.

"I don't deserve a child. I don't deserve you. An Alpha shouldn't come from me. I ruin everything."

...Oh.

Oh, fuck.

This had to do with the fire and Derek blaming himself.

No longer angry, Stiles carefully reached out and laid her hand on his trembling shoulder. When he didn't knock it off or flinch away, she kneaded the tense muscle until he looked up at her.

His eyes were empty, shadowed, and he just shook his head. "You should have been Peter's."

"Maybe, but I'm not." Her heart leapt at the thought, because the attraction to the older man was real, but Stiles knew it was just a pipe dream, a crush.

"You want him. He wants you. I've never seen him so attentive to anyone. He laughs with you. He hasn't really laughed since..." Voice dying away, he let his head drop again and Stiles slid her hand around to the nape of his neck.

"Derek, I was chosen for you." The words sounded hollow in her ears, but she knew she had to make this work. While she wasn't ready to be a mother, that didn't matter.

They had to make this work.

"No one blames you but you, Derek," Stiles said softly, feeling his muscles tense beneath her caressing fingers. "You lost so much in the fire, too. I wish you could see that."

"Why are you being so nice to me?" he choked out.

"No clue."

That brought his head up, his eyes no longer empty but filled with disbelief, and when she grinned at him, he snorted, then thunked his head back against the wall. "I'm fucked up, Stiles."

She was pretty sure that was the first time he'd ever called her by name.

"Yeah, but I can live with that." She had her answer. She wasn't sure she could fix Derek, if he'd let her, if anything would change, but she wasn't going to push it right now, except... Standing up drew his attention to her and she looked down into his hazel eyes. "I'm going to bed. It's been three nights."

Derek's eyes widened in surprise and he didn't follow her immediately, but she wasn't all that surprised to find him waiting in their bedroom when she exited the bathroom wearing only a t-shirt and pair of panties. Boldly she stripped off both and climbed onto the bed, not pulling up the covers, just watching as his eyes skimmed over her slender nudity, darkening as they lingered on her breasts and the cleft between her legs.

"You...you probably can't get pregnant tonight," he stammered, voice low and hesitant, but he tugged off his shorts and joined her on the bed.

Stiles shrugged and ran her own eyes down his body, trying not to smirk as his cock was half-hard already. "Probably not, but are you going to try?"

"I...Yeah," he breathed his agreement, then, for the first time, buried his face in her neck, drawing in her scent. Stiles turned her face into his hair and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, drawing him down on top of her.

Derek's hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs rubbing across her nipples. His lips opened against her neck in a hot, wet kiss and Stiles found herself arching into it. A slight nip of his teeth made her moan and close her eyes, then open them again when the fingers of his left hand slipped between her thighs, not to push into her, but to dance across her clit. With every touch and every kiss and lick on her neck, she grew hotter, until an ache began to make her wriggle and squirm against his fingers, which pressed harder, rubbed faster.

Stiles had done this to herself. She knew what the ache and the pressure meant, and a moan broke from her followed by a hissed 'yes'. Derek's mouth left her neck, found her nipple, and he sucked hard, making her cry out and clamp her thighs around his hand as she came.

Panting, she let her legs fall open and then whimpered as he started caressing her again, his fingers moving through the slickness until one carefully slid inside.

It felt...good.

Until now she hadn't touched him, but opening her eyes she found one hand tight around his shoulder, the other digging into his hair, but he didn't seem to mind, just licked from nipple to nipple, and played with her hot, aching cleft. When his fingers pinched her swollen clit, she bit back a scream and came again.

"Derek," she begged, pulling at his shoulder, his head until he moved up over her, his chest rubbing against her sensitive nipples, his mouth latching onto her neck again. His cock pushed into her so easily, without pain or resistence, and it felt good, really good. As he moved inside her, she wrapped one trembling leg around his and moved with him, learning his rhythm, finding her own.

Their eyes met for a moment, and then his human teeth bit into her neck and he jerked and jerked, spilling into her. Stiles felt the wet warmth of him inside her body, felt him slowly soften, then, when he pulled out, she sighed in pleasure.

For the first time, Derek didn't jump from the bed. His hands gently stroking her trembling body, he moved off of her, but only to curl around her. Drawing his head down to her shoulder, Stiles ran her fingers through his hair until the both drifted to sleep.

When Stiles woke to warm winter sun streaming through the balcony door, she found Derek's hand on her hip, his nose pressed between her shoulder blades, his warm breath hitting her with every exhale. For a few minutes, Stiles let herself feel content, before the first cramps hit, and she rolled her eyes at her stupid, inconvenient body, and slipped out of the bed for a hot bath.

Derek was gone when she emerged, wearing loose, comfortable yoga pants and a sweatshirt, but she wasn't really surprised.

One night wasn't going to fix everything.

But it had been a good night, and she had the hickey on her neck to prove it. She'd covered it with make up, not because she was embarrassed, but...it was new and she kind of liked it being her and Derek's secret.

The scent of cooking chocolate drew her to the kitchen where, to her surprise, she found Peter making chocolate chip pancakes. As she took a seat, he set a mug of cocoa in front of her.

"Half the Pack is female." 

She flushed, but grinned her thanks at him and sipped the rich chocolate until he joined her with heaping plates of pancakes for both of them. As they ate the chatted about a variety of things, but it wasn't until they were standing side by side washing the dishes, that Peter startled, then looked down at her until she flushed.

"What?" she asked, a bit defensively, because it was a weird look.

Swallowing, Peter turned back to the sink and murmured, "I'm glad you and Derek are on better terms."

He smelled...? Embarrassed, Stiles moved away to put up the dry plates. "Yeah, that's a good thing, right?"

"Of course."

But...he didn't sound all that sure.

Or was that just wishful thinking on her part?

Muttering some excuse, she fled the kitchen.

After hiding out in her room through lunch, the excuse of cramps getting her out of studying with Peter, she was surprised when Derek came in around two with a plate.

"You missed lunch."

Gaping at him, because she never saw him during the day, she took the offered plate with a hearty looking sandwich and chips, then set it aside as she watched him go to the closet. She wasn't really hungry--too confused--and she was more interested in what he was doing. 

She must have mumbled that out loud because Derek turned carrying a small duffle bag and gave her what might have been a smile, before going to the dresser. "I have escort duty for the next four days."

"Convenient timing." She clapped a hand over her mouth, but he didn't acknowledge the truth, just zipped up the bag before heading towards the door, though he stopped before opening it and looked back at her.

"We'll talk more when I get back?"

Stiles nodded and then Derek was gone and her hunger returned, so she devoured the meal while wondering if maybe they could fix him.

She determinedly did not think about Peter and, after eating took a nap right through dinner, waking groggy and aching. Dragging herself from bed, she used the bathroom, then dug around in her mostly empty make-up bag until she found a bottle of ibuprofen, downing a couple caplets with a glass of water.

Her lower stomach and back ached, she wasn't hungry, but she was restless, so she wandered down the stairs. In the living room, Talia was watching Dora the Explorer with Laura's son, Billy, while Laura and Daphne were playing Snap. Stiles watched long enough to see Daphne scold her granddaughter for using her werewolf reflexes to cheat. They asked her to join them for Spades, but she just smiled and shook her head before wandering to the library.

Cora was curled on the sofa surrounded by open books and magazines, obviously working on a paper. Stiles thought about looking through the shelves for something to hold her interest, but she wasn't in the mood to read and while she should be doing her own homework, it wasn't like Peter would fail her for turning in something late.

As she left the library debating over whether to get something to eat, go back to bed, or go for a walk in the garden, she heard music coming from the kitchen and headed that way.

Back to her as he cut himself a piece of chocolate cake, Peter shook his hips and rolled his shoulders to Elvis singing "A Little Less Conversation". A grin filled her face, a laugh spilled from her, and Peter spun to face her. Their eyes locked and his own grin joined hers as she boogied her way across the floor to him.

Only to steal his piece of cake.

Peter laughed, a deep sound of true amusement, and Stiles just shoveled a big forkful of cake into her mouth.

"There's more, you know."

"Couldn't wait." Still grinning, she took another big bite, before graciously holding a fork full of chocolate goodness out to him.

Leaning forward, Peter opened his mouth and sucked in the cake, his tongue flicking out to lick the tines free of icing, and the amusement fled, replaced by fascination and a growing warmth.

Mesmerized, Stiles stared at his mouth and missed his thumb reaching out and brushing over her lips. As she jerked back in surprise, Peter licked crumbs from his thumb. His tongue was pink and long and agile...

"Ummmm good." For a second his eyes flashed golden, before a blink returned them to their normal blue, and Stiles nearly choked on her own saliva as a weird tension spiraled between them. Confused, she turned away to sit at the table to finish her cake, but she barely tasted it as her mind revolved over and over on his lips and tongue and thumb.

She barely noticed when his hand brushed over the top of her head and he left the kitchen.

What the Hell was she doing?

The next day was completely normal and Stiles put the weird moment behind her, focusing on her studies, and ending up in a lively debate with Peter over whether or not the humans of Beacon County were just purposefully obtuse about the werewolves among them or if custom had dictated the hiding of truth for so long it had become natural. Neither won as they kept switching sides, but it kept the family entertained on a rainy evening.

Four days into her period with it fading, the cramps gone along with the craving for chocolate, Stiles found herself almost unbearably horny. She'd forgotten about that symptom--it didn't happen every month--but Derek was still gone and her fingers just weren't enough. Frustrated, she went for a run in the woods but that only made her sweaty and more irritable. Entering the house through the kitchen door she headed straight for the refrigerator and a bottle of water and didn't notice Peter at the table until she turned, bottle at her lips and head tilted back.

Mouth open, Peter stared at her until she grew self-conscious and lowered the bottle. "Um..." She had no clue why he was staring at her, but mumbled, "Sorry, I know I smell." She meant sweat, but Peter's eyes darkened and he rose gracefully to his feet to stalk towards her. Setting down the empty bottle, Stiles held her ground and her breath. Something was different.

His thumb brushed over her lower lip and her mind flew back to the cake crumbs and how he'd licked them off his thumb and how weird she'd felt and...

"Stiles," he breathed, then dipped his head to nuzzle her neck right over the fading hickey from Derek. When his teeth lightly closed over her skin, the lust that had been simmering inside her burst into flame and she sagged helplessly against him. "You hid this mark beneath high necks and hoodies," he growled against her throat before licking her sweaty skin and making her moan. His hands took her hips, pulling her into his hard body as he worried her neck, sending bolts of pleasure down her spine. "I need to mark you. I need..." With a groan he lifted his head and devoured her mouth.

All rational thought gone at the first touch of his lips on hers, Stiles kissed him back eagerly, desperately. Pressing her back against the fridge, he drove one strong knee between her legs, making her mewl into his mouth with need.

"I've tried to stay away from you, but you smell so fucking good, so ripe. Burnt sugar and cinnamon and earth and wet heat and I...I can't..."

Like a starving man, he kissed her until her knees buckled. He just hoisted her up, pulling her legs around his waist, bearing her weight so easily. "Tell me to stop," Peter begged as he peppered kisses over her face and neck.

Stiles only answer was to draw his mouth back to hers.

She felt him moving, heard him murmuring to her, but nothing made sense but his hands and his kisses and this desperate need.

Then there was a mattress beneath her back and Peter on top of her, tugging at her clothes, as words spilled from his lips between heated kisses. "I've fought so hard against this want, denied myself over and over again, rationalized away my needs, but I can't...I can't..." With another growl, he took her mouth again and Stiles kissed him back with growing passion, her fingers twining in his hair, her body arching into his.

Heat pulsed between her legs and she rocked against him, until he rose up and stripped them both. Panting for air she watched his eyes roam her nude body and didn't feel any embarrassment.

Just white hot need.

"Beautiful," Peter moaned as he sank down on top of her, then rolled them, lifting her over him. "I want to see you, watch you."

Bracing her hands on his firm chest, she pushed herself up, then looked down to see him wrap a hand around the base of his erect cock before guiding it into her. Their eyes met and Stiles slowly ground down, pulling him into her body, until he was full seated.

Shivers went up her spine, her clit throbbed with the beat of her heart, and he was so big and hard and...

Instinct took over.

Flinging her head back, Stiles lifted her hips, then drove them back down. Wild pleasure burst in her and she moaned and shook until Peter cupped her ass, lifted his knees, and thrust up into her.

She moved with him, her eyes on his face, the concentration there, the need. Feeling powerful, she cupped her breasts, flicked the nipples with her fingers, and grinned at Peter's growl and even harder thrust. Rocking down on him, she felt his every response, the tightening of his fingers on her, the pulse of his cock in her, and then dove down to kiss him until they both gasped.

The new angle rubbed her aching clit against the base of his cock and Stiles squirmed and bucked until the heat and tension burst, leaving her shaking and whimpering.

Peter rolled them, came over her and drove into her hard and deep until, with a groan, he came.

Lifting trembling arms, Stiles wrapped them around his neck and dragged him into another kiss, then begged, "Again."

Growling into her throat, his teeth and lips fastening onto her tender flesh, he hardened inside her, and she kicked her legs around his hips and lifted to meet his first thrust.

The sun was setting when Stiles drifted slowly back to wakefulness. The first thing she realized was that her body felt languid and soft and so damn good. The second was that she had no clue where she was. The third was that she was sprawled across a hard, sculpted chest.

The fourth was that she wasn't with Derek.

Guilt brought her fully awake and she jerked away from Peter, only to scramble for the blankets to cover her nudity as she started to pant for breath. His hand came down on her back in a soothing gesture but she pulled away, nearly falling off the bed.

His bed.

Oh God...

"Stiles, calm down," he said gently, but sorrow was evident in his voice as well. "You're going to hyperventilate."

She deserved it. Oh God, she was a horrible person. She...

Over her panting and gasping she heard Peter sigh softly. "Stiles, please..." His hand found her back again, rubbing between her shoulder blades, and this time she let him because she was about to pass out and his touch was calming her.

Finally able to breathe normally, though her heart still pounded, she turned her head to look at him and he looked as guilty as she felt.

His hand fell away and he slid from the other side of the bed, pulling on his jeans over muscular legs and an ass to rival Derek's, and, oh God, the panic was creeping back in. Burying her face in her hands, she huddled into a ball and prayed this was all a dream.

"I'll explain this to Derek. He won't blame you."

What?

That brought her crashing back to reality and she stared at him as he walked around the bed to crouch down to face her. "Are you nuts? We're not telling Derek!"

A pained look crossed Peter's face and his fingers brushed over the sore spot on her neck. "Stiles, he'll know as soon as he sees this. It's fresh and he'll see past any make up you use to try to hide it." He sighed mournfully. "I shouldn't have marked you. Shouldn't have done any of this."

"Don't...don't say that," she whispered, because, yes she felt guilty, but she also... "I don't regret this."

"I don't either."

Leaning forward he kissed her softly, until a new fear hit her and she pulled back, demanding, "Will this break the Pact?"

"That'll be up to Talia," he replied faintly before sinking back on his haunches and running a hand through his messy hair. "I'll take complete blame and will make sure she knows this isn't a challenge for you."

"Wait. What?"

"This could be seen as a challenge, an attempt to steal Derek's mate. I told you, we don't do that, haven't for generations."

Oh God, could this get worse?

"Talia won't be happy. She'll probably send me away for awhile or, worse, force me to take a mate of my own." Sighing again, he rose to stare out the window into the darkening sky.

Stiles had often wondered why Peter didn't have a mate, but she'd never found the nerve to ask and she still didn't.

"Can we just hide out until Derek gets back tomorrow?" She knew she sounded whiney, but she didn't want to face the Alpha or anyone else.

He turned back to face her. "You can. I need to talk to my sister, try to explain."

No, she wouldn't let him do that alone.

Couldn't.

"No. I mean, not alone." Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she reached over the side of the bed for her top and panties. "Shower first and then we face the music together." At his look, she gave him a stubborn one back. "I'm not a coward or a kid."

"I never thought you were either," Peter replied softly. "I'll come get you in a half hour, okay?"

At her nod, he disappeared into his bathroom and Stiles pulled on enough clothes to sneak out of his room and into her own. As she mercilessly scrubbed herself clean, she realized that while she felt guilty, she didn't feel like she'd cheated on Derek. She didn't want to hurt him, but she had real feelings for Peter.

And she was almost one hundred percent certain that Derek knew about them.

Yet, since that last night together, the first real night between them, she'd begun to see a future with Derek. She honestly wanted to help him heal.

She was very confused.

Running a towel quickly over her body and hair, Stiles threw on a top and pants, bundled herself in a warm cardigan, and was pulling on a pair of fuzzy socks when there was a knock on the door. She took a deep, steadying breath and opened it. Peter's hair was damp, curling along the collar of his red Henley, and she restrained herself from running her fingers through it.

All she wanted was to cling to him, but she just brushed against him as they headed down the stairs.

Arms crossed over her chest, deep frown on her face, Talia was waiting for them in the library. Peter closed the door behind them and Stiles watched him face his sister and Alpha.

He didn't instantly submit, which made color flare in Talia's cheeks. At his strength of will, Stiles felt her heart leap in her chest in pride, and then forced herself to hold her ground as Talia's eyes flickered red at her before they returned to her brother.

"I thought I could trust you to be the adult here, Peter," she said coldly. "I thought you would restrain yourself and sublimate your desires for the good of the Pack.

Peter stiffened and Stiles' hand went to his arm, squeezing it gently which brought the Alpha's attention fully on her, though Talia's voice was softer when she spoke to her.

"Stiles, you don't need to be here for this. I don't blame you. Peter's a master manipulator and I know your relationship with Derek isn't what I'd hoped, not yet."

"No, I won't let you blame Peter alone. I'm not a child," Stiles snapped back, refusing to be cowed by those crimson eyes.

"You're sixteen."

"I'm not a child," she reiterated, voice hard, "Or I wouldn't be here, would I. Peter didn't seduce me, or at least no more than I seduced him. If you need to be mad, be mad at me, too."

For a moment, Talia seemed taken aback, but then she stiffened her spine and glared at both of them. "Unless you plan to challenge Derek, Peter, this ends now."

"I don't."

She seemed relieved. "I think it best that you spend a year or two away from the Pack."

"No," Stiles protested. "You can't send him away."

"Stiles," Peter said softly, his hand covering the one still wrapped around his forearm. "I expected this."

"No."

"I'll talk to Derek when he returns. He'll forgive you, Stiles."

Suddenly angry, Stiles turned on the Alpha. "For what? Until five days ago he treated me like crap. He outright told me I should have been given to Peter."

"That wasn't his decision."

"No, it was yours. Is it that important to you that the Alpha following Laura be Derek's kid? He didn't want me, doesn't think he deserves me or a baby or to be given that kind of gift. Let me guess, you ignored all his protests, too."

More color stained Talia's cheeks but at least she seemed to be listening, though she still protested. "It's tradition that the chosen girl be given to the Alpha's son if one is of age and available."

"Tradition? This whole fucking thing is about tradition. It used to be tradition that the girl was shared amongst several men, too, did you know that? Genetic diversity was the reason."

"We stopped that over three generations ago."

"So? Monogamy isn't a given with werewolves any more than with humans."

For a moment Talia stared at her, before turning her attention back to Peter. "Do you think to share her with Derek?"

"I don't think that's my decision."

"No, it's mine and Derek's," Stiles interjected. "You made him my mate, Talia. I talk to him first when he comes home. Not you."

Talia's lips tightened and her eyes narrowed in anger. "I'm your Alpha, Stiles."

"Yeah? You told me that you hoped I would have my father's will. Well, I do, and his stubbornness, and I'm all too human. I've done everything you wanted. I gave up my life, my future for you and your Pack. I will talk to my mate before you do, and Derek and I together will come to a decision about our future. Either way, you'll get your werewolf babies and hopefully your Alpha. That's what I'm here for, right?" As she snapped out the last bit, Stiles found herself barely a foot from the Alpha, their eyes locked on each others. Tension vibrated between them, until, to her shock, Talia lowered her eyes first.

Stiles could almost feel an equivalent shock coming off Peter.

"You'd make a magnificent Alpha wolf," Talia admitted grudgingly.

"I'll just be an Alpha human, thanks." Taking a step back, she felt Peter's hand press between her shoulder blades, and she realized she was panting. 

"Magnificent is right," he murmured in her ear.

The expression on Talia's face softened and she sighed. "I still think you can help my son, Stiles."

"I do, too. I..." She glanced up at Peter and saw only encouragement and love on his face. "We finally talked the night before he left and I saw possibilities, a future. I want to help him. He's so broken."

"I know. You're nearly perfect for him. In six years, none of us have truly been able to reach him, to touch him. I hoped..."

"Do you think I don't want him to heal, sister? I love him like my own son, like a brother, and we were so close until the fire when he shut us all out, refusing our touches, our love. I'm not going to selfishly take away the one person who has been able to reach him, but I love her, and I don't want to give her up, either."

At his declaration, Stiles' heart stuttered and her fingers slid down over his wrist to wrap with his.

Slowly Talia nodded, but added, "If the three of you can work this out, then fine, but if Derek refuses, I will side with my son."

Stiles wouldn't thank her, but she did nod in agreement, then let Peter guide her out of the room. Once the door closed behind them, he pulled her into his arms, pressing his cheek to the side of her head.

"You are amazing."

"Yep." Wrapping her arms around his back, she clung to him, suddenly afraid Derek would balk and Peter would be forced to leave. Wanting what might be one last night, she pulled him towards the stairs and his room.

"Stiles..."

"Barn door already open, cow already out."

Snorting in amusement, he followed her until he could tackle her onto his bed.

A weak Winter sun woke Stiles and she yawned and stretched and wriggled. She was warm and cozy and there were delicious aches in her body. Beside her, Peter mumbled in his sleep and nuzzled his cheek against her shoulder, before falling silent and still.

Stiles basked in the memories of the night before--another round of fantastic sex in Peter's big bed, her first, messy but enjoyable blow job, Peter going down on her in the shower, feeding each other fruit and cheese around midnight, before soft kisses leading to sleep--but finally her bladder complained and she dragged herself from bed and into Peter's bathroom.

When she emerged, dressed and yawning again, Peter was still asleep, and knowing that Derek was coming home this morning, Stiles headed for her room to shower, change her clothes, and prepare herself for the talk to come.

Opening the door, she stumbled to a halt at the sight of her mate sitting on the end of the bed, his face expressionless, his eyes empty, his hands cupping his knees.

"You're early," she blurted out, turning bright red. Unable to look him in the eyes, she dropped hers down and saw his knuckles turning white as he gripped himself harder.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Had Talia called him home early? Did he already know?

Stiles swallowed hard.

Derek's bare forearms grew taut, the muscles bulging.

He knew. This was not how this was supposed to go!

"Derek?" she forced out, silently praying for him to say something because she was starting to panic. While she was pretty sure he wouldn't hurt her, his silence was unnerving. "Derek, please say something?"

Slowly he exhaled and then rose to his feet. "Close the door." His voice was flat and that was even worse than anger or hurt. Swallowing hard again, Stiles closed the door and leaned against it, her hand clasped on the knob just in case, but Derek didn't move towards her, didn't move at all. She forced herself to look up at him and mentally cringed when she saw his eyes were focused on her neck where the mark he'd given her had been replaced by Peter's.

"I..." Instinctively starting to apologize, she stopped herself because she wasn't sorry. Well, she didn't regret being with Peter, but she hadn't wanted Derek to find out this way, and she realized she'd said the latter out loud when he gave her a pained look.

"I'll convince my mom to give you to Peter. It won't void the Pact," he muttered, gesturing for her to move away from the door so he could leave.

In that moment, Stiles came to the blinding realization that wasn't what she wanted. Despite her growing feelings for Peter--maybe even love?--she didn't want to abandon Derek.

"Get out of the way, Stiles," Derek growled, coming to a stop a foot in front of her.

"No," she bravely replied, jaw tightening, hand leaving the door knob. "I agreed to talk to you when you came back. I want to talk to you."

Something flashed across his face, through his eyes, something real and angry/sad, and her natural inclination to bring comfort made her place one hand over his heart.

His growl in response was pure wolf, but it didn't scare her off, and he didn't pull away.

For once, Stiles forced herself to think before speaking. "I didn't mean for it to happen, Derek, but I don't regret it. I have feelings for Peter..."

"And I said it was okay. Move!"

"I have feelings for Peter," she reiterated over his objection, "And I have feelings for you." Stressing the last word, she put her weight behind her hand and pushed at him. He was so startled, he stumbled back. "Now, sit down and let me talk, okay?" When he did sit, she started to pace. "I never expected Peter to feel anything for me more than friendship, and I didn't realize I was feeling anything more than a crush for him. Then yesterday we just...I don't know, combusted." Seeing him open his mouth, she held up her hand and his lips snapped shut. "Since I got here, despite you're being an asshole until that last night, I was prepared to be yours, Derek. I still am."

Coming to a stop before him, she took a deep breath, dropped with a thud to her knees and bared her unmarked throat to him.

"...Stiles?" There was pure confusion in his voice.

"I'm not lying."

"I know, but I don't understand why?"

God, he sounded so young, and she realized she had hurt him. A week before, if someone had said she not only would but could hurt him, or that Derek cared enough that he would be hurt by her, she'd have laughed in their face, but that night before he left, they turned the corner.

Her being with Peter had thrown up a roadblock.

But Stiles was determined that it wouldn't be a permanent one.

"Do you know what you're doing?" he stammered. "That position?"

Research was her thing. She knew.

"Submitting to my mate."

"But..."

"You know I'm not lying," she stressed, her eyes locking on his for a moment.

As he numbly protested, Derek was the one to look away. "I said you can be with Peter. I'll make mom understand. She wants your babies more than my happiness."

"That's not true," Stiles snapped angrily, because, Jesus, his self-esteem was lower than her own. "And I've already talked to Talia."

Derek's eyes jerked back to hers, wide in his pale face. "She knows?"

"Of course she knows. Everyone living here probably knows. Derek, my neck's cricking, can you scent me for fuck's sake?"

A hoarse shocked laugh burst from him, but he reached down and easily pulled her up to straddle his lap, before lowering his nose to her neck, the soft spot behind her ear. As Stiles wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, she tried to relax against him.

When he sank into her and breathed in deeply, her hands tightened on the back of his shirt, and she let her eyes close.

After several minutes, Derek whispered, "You smell like Peter," and Stiles tensed. "No, no, it's okay. I don't...I don't know why you're letting me do this, but it...it seems...I..." A frustrated growl broke from him. "I'm not good with words." But he didn't let her go and didn't move his nose and mouth from her skin.

Stiles relaxed again. "It's okay. I'm really good with them."

There was another long, but comfortable silence, before Derek lifted his head, then shifted her so she was sitting, both of them turning to face each other, their knees brushing.

"What are you feeling?" She almost laughed at the horrified look he shot her. "Are you mad? Hurt? Worried? Relieved?"

"No."

Rolling her eyes, she took his hand and squeezed it. "Okay. I'm going to lay out what I want--and your mother already knows and agrees it's your decision--and then you have to tell me what you want, and, probably more importantly, if your wolfy side is okay with it."

He mouthed 'wolfy side' at her, eyebrows more expressive than any other part of his body.

"Did you know your eyebrows say more than you do?"

"Stiles..."

"Okay, okay, inappropriate levity, I know." Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly, centering herself, and preparing her thoughts. "I meant it when I said I wanted to help you." When his brow furrowed, she asked, "What?"

"When did you say that?"

"...Oh, probably not to you." Really, before now, they'd had one five minute conversation and the rest was orders and growls. "Look, you said you were fucked up and I agree with that, but I think I can help you be not so fucked up. The two us of may not have talked much, but despite my ability to babble wildly, I do listen really well, and everyone else talks about you. How you were before the fire. How you blame yourself. How they can't seem to help you. How maybe I can. Your mom chose me specifically for you specifically, and while she'd like the Alpha line to pass through you after Laura, I don't think that was her sole reason and probably not the most important one."

Looking at him carefully to see if anything was sinking in, she realized that Derek appeared more open to listening to her than she'd ever seen him, so she took another deep breath before continuing. "If Peter and I hadn't given into whatever is between us, I probably would never have thought about this, but it did, and I did."

"Stiles," Derek said a bit impatiently, clearly wanting her to get to her point.

"I'm getting there." Shooting him an exasperated look, she was surprised to see his lips give a minute twitch. "Erm...Where was I? No, no, I remember," she added quickly when he snorted. "I will teach you how to have actual conversations. Grunts and snorts do nothing for me, dude."

"Don't call me dude."

Stiles snorted back at his bland pronouncement. "Yeah, not going to happen. Now, here's what I'm thinking. I want to be your mate because...I dunno, I don't not like you. I think I can help you. I know you deserve to be happy. This belief you have that you don't deserve nice things is a piece of shit belief, and I'll always be one to rail against that kind of attitude."

Something she said made Derek stiffen and pull his hand from hers, and, as she mentally flailed, he said flatly, "So, it's pity."

"What? No. Did I say that? I'm pretty sure I didn't say that. Look, Derek..." She took another breath, trying to steady herself. "I knew I was going to the chosen one." Heh. Chosen One.

More inappropriate humor. Sometimes she just couldn't help herself, though at least she hadn't said the 'heh' out loud.

Stiles was dragged out of her thoughts by his confused, "...How?"

"Because I wasn't going to let the Alpha choose a thirteen year old." She was pleased by his horrified look. "And the other two were in their twenties. Logically I was the best choice even though I'm sixteen. I'm not even sure Stephie'd had her first period." She ignored the flush on his cheeks and barreled on. "So, even though I wasn't happy about it, I knew the chances were good I'd be the one and I sort of mentally prepared for it. I was determined, and I'm still determined, to make the best of it."

"But, you could have better than that. You could have Peter, who can give you love."

"And how do you know you can't?"

That seemed to baffle him.

"I'm not going to throw away that chance. Look, Derek, I may not love you, but I'm pretty sure I don't love Peter either. I like both of you. You're both sexy as Hell, and while Peter challenges me intellectually, there's just something about you that makes me want to curl up in your strong arms and hold on tight."

Derek's eyes narrowed but not in anger, in knowledge. "You want both of us."

"Uh...yeah?"

"Stiles..."

"Yeah, I want both of you," she breathed out, admitting it to him as well as herself. "In the last three weeks, I've gotten to know Peter a lot better than you, but I want that to change."

"Wolves are serial monogamists," he replied, but it came out very uncertain.

"Yeah, but you're not just a wolf. Humans can love and want more than one person at a time."

"And you do?"

"Well, as I said, not ready for the 'L' word, but, yeah."

"...Oh."

"But, I was serious about you're wolf being okay with this." Because, in living with a bunch of them for several weeks, she'd come to understand that while the human and wolf sides were integrated, they also had aspects that were unique to one or the other.

"Have you...have you asked Peter what he wants?" And that came out sounding like he was sure she hadn't.

"Yeah, and he wants you to be happy and whole and he's fine with sharing me, though that sounds pretty misogynistic and it's not what he said and it's more like I'm okay with sharing myself with both of you."

One of Derek's eyebrows arched to his hairline as he choked out, "Mom is really okay with this?"

"She said she'd support whatever decision you chose. Derek, if you say 'no', I...well, I probably won't be happy for awhile, but I'll live with it. I guess. I can't really say, just like I can't know if this will work out. Heck, maybe Peter will fall madly in love with someone else next year, or you might, too. We can't know the future, but for right now, I want to be with both of you."

Their eyes met, held, and then Derek leaned down and kissed her.

It was their first kiss.

And it was sweet and a bit hesitant and soft and perfect.

Even more perfect was when Derek pulled back, he was smiling.

Stiles had never seen him smile.

She couldn't help but smile back.

A couple hours later, after more talking than Derek had obviously experienced in years, they left their room hand in hand because Derek was a bit talked out, but mostly because Stiles' hungry stomach was growling as loud as a wolf, only to find Peter waiting for them. The older man was leaning against the wall, hands in his pants' pockets, appearing completely at ease, but Stiles could see the tension at the corner of his eyes and lips, and the way his shoulders braced for rejection when he saw their clasped hands.

To her surprise, Derek made the first move, reaching out his free hand to take his uncle's arm and pull him against them.

Stiles felt Peter sag, heard his nearly sub-vocal whimper of relief, and wrapped her arm around him.

"We'll work this out, Peter," Derek said softly, releasing Stiles' hand only to hug her, too, so that they were in one tight embrace.

"Thank you, Derek," Peter replied in a hoarse, emotion-filled voice. "Yes, I think we can."

At the implication that she had no say in any of this--not true, of course, but she had to keep them on their toes--Stiles cleared her throat in faked annoyance. Peter chuckled and Derek rolled his eyes, and as they all sort of separated, she loudly grumbled, "I'm hungry. Feed me."

Both men snorted.

Grinning, Stiles wrapped an arm around each of their waists to lead them to the stairs.

Just under a year later, Stiles half sat, half lay against a pile of pillows, tired, aching, and a sweaty mess, but feeling nothing but joy as she held her daughter in her arms. Derek was on one side of her, head propped up on his hand as he stared in awe at the baby. Peter lay on the other side, fingers carding through Stiles' hair as he watched her watch her little daughter open her hazy blue eyes and pucker her bow-shaped, pink lips.

Either man could be her father.

None of them cared to ever find out the truth.

A sound from the open door drew Stiles' attention and she saw Talia leaning against the jamb, tears sparkling in her eyes.

Stiles knew it wasn't just because of the tiny werewolf cradled against Stiles' breasts, but also because there was pure joy on her son's face, and pure love on her brother's.

And because Stiles was happy, too.

End

**Author's Note:**

> Whether or not Stiles falls in love with either or both men is up to the reader. I do believe that Peter, at least, loves her completely.


End file.
